Kate McNamara & Robert Verdon, #43, Vast Meadows

There are vast meadows

of grass under the sea

where the light is

fluid, swimming in its

own current

what is lost there

is never found

except the bones of pirates

restless under the full moon, which rise

to go dancing with silky sea-maidens,

their powder hardly dry,

to the song of the humpback whale;

to the syncopation

of the constellations