Once upon a time
a lonely ship
sat arrested in the sea
tethered tightly
to a steel Dock
by a hemp Rope
Her deck was
weathered and splintered
In chipped and cracked red letters
her name was scrolled upon her hull:
“PERSEPHONE”
Her figurehead was
the carved bust of a Siren
with head thrown back
arms stretched upward to heaven
Around the Siren’s slender waist
the hemp Rope was bound
half green with algae
half bleached white by the relentless sun
brittle and fraying
but with expert knots
too sure to ever come undone
The PERSEPHONE had bobbed
up and down in the waves
endlessly and ceaselessly
for how long, no one knows
but each time she rose and fell
with the tide, her Rope slid
along the unforgiving leg of the Dock
The ship longed to sail
though her sails were tattered
her shrouds, defiled
her mast, broken
her rudder, frozen
She pleaded to the dock
to bring her a sailor
The Siren on her bow sang day and night:
“Oh bring me a lad
with a sea weary hand
but a kindness behind his strong touch
Oh bring me a man
who will sail me to land
and I’ll rest in the sand Evermore”
But the cold steel Dock never answered
It is said she endoured
this lonely, ceaseless surf
for almost nearly forever
until the hemp Rope
was worn thin
and the sharp steel of the Dock’s leg
began to dissever it
One day,
the wearied Rope gave
falling away from the Dock
and collapsing to the ocean
clinging desperately to its surface
by tattered strands
drowning, at last
Some folks say
that the PERSEPHONE set adrift to sea
receding further and further
away from the Dock
until she was in deep waters
rocking wildly on her battered keel
waves crashing over her sides
she took on seawater
until her stern went under
until her bow went under
until nothing was left
but the Siren
hands stretched to heaven
and then only her Rope
Some folks say
that another ship sailed by
and that the captain of that fine vessel
reached down in time
to grab her Rope
just before it, too, went under
and he towed her to safety
to the other side of the world
Others say she is still down there
beneath the surface of the black water
waiting to be discovered
by some deep sea diver
with romantic notions of buried treasure
But perhaps her ghost
has come up from the depths
sailing swiftly back to her Dock
tethered there once more
to sing to him, endlessly
It is said that if you stand near
under a full moon on a cloudless night
you can see her silhouette
I’m sure you’ve heard her voice
haunting him
Other folks say
PERSEPHONE was rescued
before the vast abyss of the sea
could claim her
Restored and repainted
by caring hands
renamed the “APHRODITE”
Sometimes she sails, swift and sure
past the steel Dock
but he doesn’t recognize her anymore
Though I used to stroll by her
along the boardwalk
on dark days
when the mist hung on my face like tears
I do not know what became of her
I walked away from that shipwreck long ago