AtLast_[07]

Covering heaven's eyes Until this ugliness receded Into the dispassionate And drowned in the ocean's horizon of hunger. They chewed their fists through Roaring Waters, Glazed through the Sea of Clear, Huddled motionless at Fastnet's light, Before falling over the edge of their world.

Half a roster fed to a sea. No one said grace. There was no sip with which to cry.

That one, The one born of the death ships The great silence The shrug swallowed by children As were it food Is spurned in disgust by these birds whose sea this is Whose dominion was soiled by this eyesore.

Listen to the witnesses, the Manx Shearwaters. It is their crying narrative reverberating in these shells.