BARCAROLLE

The ruined heavens split

The rigging one last time,

Pushed by buckling in the planet

To coat the bay in rime,

 

To trace the slip

Of phosphorescent lights

As monstrous ripples ship

Around a sky of ice,

 

Sheets that splinter in the air

Like seas failing in the deep,

Broken worlds whose dying glare

Burns like fuses in our sleep,

 

Fireballs whose forked extremes

Spray us shipwrecked into dreams. 

 

NOTES ON BARCAROLLE