Fired through spangled waves
steeply angled mountains climb away.
among echoes of rifles’ ricochet
sits grave in centre of scree,
bubbling waters drape moss
in jewelled glowing greens.
Bound tight to a fissured edge,
flesh clings to cormorant’s spread claw,
wedged tight, skull marked for erosion.
Sea spray softly descends
diffused through freshly stirring wind,
while our ship leans, then mends its course.
Steering into the dark heart of the ocean,
insistent marching feet can be heard,
drumming decks of motionless boats.
We are consumed among the elements,
demented curses never reach our ears,
as weathered hands slip down frozen rigging