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Sea of memories

Posted: Mon May 26, 2003 1:52 am

Sea of memories

The sea in its blue brine, light,
somnambulant vortex; opens
its waves, thrusting westward.
Vessels of exploration appear
on the horizon,
white phantoms dance
frenetically upon the sea,
sharks spin in place,
awaiting offerings.

From island to island,
we had to learn the language
of power. Oracle of the
master, God granted them
the tabernacle of fire,
blessing slavery
with biblical passages.
Words burn like swords
cutting wrists for lack of gold.

In waters growing dark,
makeshift boats and rafts
float in nocturnal depths,
unsafe with neither
dawn nor dusk
for laser eyes roamed the waters,
seeking to sink black cargoes.

The wind nestled inside conch shells
as the turbulent sea of memory reviews
history on the backs of hungry fishermen.
The Atlantic's blue sky does not reflect
in our eyes. And we do not laugh because
of happiness; rather, it is our response to the
scorching sun and burning molasses on our skin.

© 2000 Patrick Sylvain