Actual posting date 16-11-10
The Mariner’s Mother
By a stone where seabirds shriek, a phantom
woman kneels to weep for loves she lost, and
one who shared her tortured grief. Weeps with the
voice of the wailing wind, for tousled-boy
and plait-haired girl; and one who held her tight.
Weeps for the dawn of a winter's morn, numb
world of lily-scent with ghostly shroud o'er
white faced girl. Weeps for the lad who fights for
fish in the fated trawler Laforey,
'til callous storm-gods dash his life away.
Weeps for George who whispers low as he pines
for children snatched-away. “Oh my sweet, this
pain must go. In the breeze our grief will blow...”
Three souls float on the fitful wind, George, lass,
tousled lad; where a woman weeps alone.
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