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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1623517
The sadness and internal destruction of loss.
  Blue Cargo

When I could not
find you,
I went inside;
was carried away
in a boat painted blue,
the hold full of blue…
blue cargo;

away on
the intermittent flow
of the endless red river,
eternal tunnelled ocean,

with its promise
of no end.

And each time I pass
through the all-powerful
machine
of unbearable noise,
incessant rhythmic pounding,
I feel another bit
has been taken away.

And my boat’s blue
has not
deteriorated
in crimson brine;
and the hold
is still full of blue…
blue cargo…
now
a permanent part of me.

© Copyright 2009 David Ransom (davidransom at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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