Winter Wrack

Stalks like shattered masts,
Fronds like shredded sails,
Canvas tatter and floating coat,
Grieving wreckage of a once proud boat.

Where are the storm wrecked sailors?
And the precious cargo they fought so hard to hold?
Beneath the heaving sea weed,
Beneath the heaving cold.

Just ten more lives lost in the grand scheme of the sea,
But the grand scheme lost in the lives of the ten.
And on the sandy bottom, in defiance to the raging world above,
Sleep precious cargo and wasted sailor.


A few lines inspired by today's weather,
and the open wild of Galway Bay.