ferryman
o lethe:
we seek to speak
uncovered your tongue
from eye, the coin,
the gold-flaked back,
the blue tied up
in hospital gowns,
the umber where
the water flows.
no goods are exchanged
beyond this point.
no fall of flood
or flesh-panned silver,
no-one to leave
for heed or want
but only that which
our body gives you:
the gentle rasping
bend of hand,
the curve of
coin to lip
or, unassuming,
the fright of dust
from wing
to wing.
page revision: 10, last edited: 07 Jan 2024 01:09