there once was an old man from the sea
he’d dance with the whales and sing to me
smiling with hands of white
and we’d sink away from sight
watching the ring around the moon
his voice like a rusted harpoon
we’d sleep with our feet in the sand
and eternally dream of-no man’s land
then a time too soon, he did depart
he cocked his head, took my hands and remarked,
“I’ll say hello to the sleep and writhing sea;
after all, their only company is me.”
