The heart of a man is laid out in Carlton Fisher’s visionary poem of death, dreams, and regret. A must-read for anyone who ever ponders missed opportunities.
—
Soul Upon Water
What becomes of the dead at sea?
Do their souls move with the tides,
flow in and out upon the waves,
or do they plunge to the ocean floor
recline in the shadows of the Marianas
splay their fingers to the salt and silt
and let the cold freeze them in time?
I dreamt I drowned in the mid-Atlantic,
arms splayed to my sides
in crucifixion pose,
clothing clouded around me and floating,
staring up at myself from below
sunlight radiated around me
in a halo of what was lost.
I died nameless on a ship
in a past life,
and my memory still rises on the waves,
circles the green-blue of the Arctic Sea,
shines bright into the polar night—
a single beacon into space,
an illumination in the darkness of the heavens
for the woman who never knew my name,
for the lost who were never found again.
***
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Photo by Luc De Leeuw /Flickr
“in a halo of what was lost”–yes. Thank you for this poem, Carlton.