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Fathom five

As she spoke, he watched the ocean roil;
observed it lurching up and falling back,
while scudding breezes washed the sky with clouds
and threw a briny spray that soaked his clothes—
his clothes that huddled closer to the warmth
that dwindled, slowly dying in his chest.
He felt the the railing, coarse beneath his palm,
rough metal worn by water, salt and wind,
as if it were somebody else’s hand.
He heard the voice with someone else’s ears
and shuddered as another’s blood congealed.
At last the words receded, lessened, stopped,
and then her presence faded out as well.
Alone, with someone else’s eyes he watched
the waves turn boulders slowly into sand.
The salty wetness on his face was proof
the sea would also work its change on him.

~ Charles Martinuzzi, 2026

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