|
(to Ellen Gallagher)
They walk the savannas
Of the grieving oceans,
The restless ghosts of slaves
Who were sold to the sea.
In the broken forests,
Where armadas of fish
Follow rainbows of faith,
Their shadows of bodies
Are snaked with silent chains.
Amongst the wrecks of ships,
Where stripped masts stretch for stars,
The tipped decks shine their pain
And anchors snag their wound.
They wander the warm depths,
Bound to their memories
Of freedom’s villages
And a sun like a god.
Men, women and children,
They walk the world’s sea-beds.
Time voyages nowhere,
Centuries are soundless,
Their long trek buys no peace.
From the treasures of their deaths,
They salvage their laments;
And time can’t stop their search
Below the endless waves.
Peter Thabit Jones © 2010
Published in POET TO POET #1 BRIDGING THE WATERS - SWANSEA TO SAG HARBOR by Peter Thabit Jones and Vince Clemente, 2008
|
