Telling The Fishes (Poetry)

The sea has all my letters
in its library of shell
a long shelf of battered bottles
with their messages that tell
my story to the fishes
in instalments — each new love
that drowned itself for pity
and gave up the world above

My netted dreams are hanging
where the wind can dry salt tears
the sunken wrecks of longing
hold their secrets, swallow fears
while the waves discuss true meaning
let my words drift with the tide
white paper boats upon an ocean
tethers broken from my side

I abandon those frail children
for a brief life spent afloat
clumsy poems strung together
spawning other lines I wrote
fostered by a tender mermaid
mourning for her Davy Jones
gathers cast-off shoals of orphans
reading rhymes among old bones