Grey On Grey (Poetry)

Ghosts from the sea
they walk across the sighing water —
no will to sink or swim they cannot mix
their ectoplasm oily grey — lighter than
the duller salt-sharp element all life must
depend upon.

Like weary refugees they come
or shy invaders from a world uncharted where
there are no sea lanes for their crossing
they shape up vague as human clouds — massing
then dissolving — breaking free
of form — a mist that writhes long-limbed
and damp with love’s chill agonies.

Spirits of sailors, pirates, legends all
storm-tossed survivors of cold deaths
they roll back landwards — find
the latitude and longitude draws them close to shore
where they loiter in the shallows
becalmed — the year’s late-breaking dawn indifferent
allows them a brief sojourn in its bitter bay
to seek some small forgiveness.