Her sorrow sighed upon the breeze.
Picked up by the strong northern wind,
It was flung to the far corners of the seas.
Waves crashed and sprayed upon the rocks
As a lone seagull cried its mournful dirge,
Its grief intermingled with her own.
She stood there, a proud, solitary figure
Staring off across the barren expanse of sea,
Her being crying and her soul shattering.
Three months had come and gone
And each day found her down upon the sand
Searching, hoping, praying.
Knowing in her marrow it was hopeless.
Her sailor, her husband, her lover
Lost at sea.
Gone, never to be seen again
His body lost to the vast expanse
Of the oceanâ€™s vaporous lagoons.
Grieving, no body for final consolation.
An empty grave with tombstone marker
Was all she had of her precious lover.
He had cheated death many times, her man.
Beating the odds,
Laughing at the sea.
This time, the sea had won.
And in her cruel win
Had the tenacity to keep his body as her booty.
Ann M. Curtis
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