Paw the cat/kitten,

Black as black can be

With one white mitten,

Drapes himself

On Sister Darling’s shoulder,

As we wait (perhaps unwisely)

On the Lighthouse dock,

To watch the passage of sunken ships,

On this night when the Otherworld

Enters into our own.

Sister Darling,

Of The Rarefied Church of The World (Reformed),

Notes that Paw has (perhaps wisely)

Nestled beneath the waves of

Her long, flowing hair,

So one can only see

His gleaming eyes and

One white paw.

The sunken ships, each in their disarray

Of tattered and shattered

Sails, spars, jibs,

Yards, booms, masts,

And other savaged rigging,

Moan and splash and sigh

As they pass.

The dead sailors stand at the rail,

Beseeching,

Without word or movement.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2026 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report.  DE BA. UEL