Kindred (Audio Poem)

Willowing away by the water’s edge,
Hanging our harps for the wind to play,
We are the reluctant travelers.

Pressed into the ship and taken away,
Latched in our watery coffin,
Tossed in our filth,
We writhe in disease and harken for home.

Night has fallen in these darkened souls,
Dead as the night that hallow calls
With its whispery breath
And teases with hopes of a watery death.