Word came
that the ship was lost:
No survivors.
Her beloved
perished amid a storm
In her dreams
she sees him
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
swimming
sinking
sinking
sinking
drifting
drifting
drifting
on her
tears.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I suppose this could be about Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon, but in fact, it came from listening to The Lost Wife by Alyson Richman. It also reminds me of a family story.
My grandfather was a ship captain on the St. Lawrence Seaway. One day, a knock came on the door, and my grandmother was told gravely that his ship had sunk, and he was lost. This would no doubt have been far more traumatic, had grandpa not been sitting in the living room at the time.
Shawn L. Bird 