The meeting was on shipwrecks.
\nLike rare flowers under Lake Erie,
\nplotted and designed by the currents,
\nthe University\u2019s audience was primed
\nfor danger, romance,
\nthe fragile countenance of submerged artifacts.
\nAnd I joined the cookies, punch,
\nfinding a chair by the projector,
\nready to hear of shipwrecks,
\nand purses full of coins,
\nold cups and rudders.
\nGraceful planks,
\nlike the bones of fish
\nlying in a murky grave,
\nready to be the fossils of our time.<\/p>\n
What a handsome crowd,
\nunusually handsome!
\nWas it by chance
\nthat a certain kind of man and woman
\nis drawn to shipwrecks?
\nMore erudite?
\nThey looked intelligent,
\nfaces reserved, but young even for the old,
\nand eating my cookie,
\nI asked, why was I here?
\nWhy did I circle like a fly
\naround the remains of ancient catastrophes,
\nmishaps of fate,
\nlife pulled beneath the waves
\nin maelstrom or explosion?<\/p>\n
And the cookie became dry in my mouth.
\nThe pink punch came to lips
\nas I realized,
\nthese were ghosts,
\nthese were the precious cargo
\nof the ships.
\nThat we are shipwrecks.
\nWe are all going down.
\nWe will all have tales to tell
\nwill be sold for salvage,
\none by one,
\neach of us,
\nwith the bright sail of life
\npulling us on,
\nnot tonight,
\nnot here,
\nbut unexpected.<\/p>\n
The reefs will claim us,
\nor a storm,
\nor a collision with the unknown
\nour SOS going over the sea,
\nour prayers released like songs
\ninto the gale.
\nAnd others will gather,
\ncharting our bones,
\nour fates,
\nand look unusually handsome,
\nremembering us as rare flowers
\ncast somewhere under the waves,
\nwaiting to be discovered,
\ntelling our stories.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The meeting was on shipwrecks. Like rare flowers under Lake Erie, plotted and designed by the currents, the University\u2019s audience was primed for danger, romance,…<\/p>\n