twenty seven

Wrecked broken upon grief’s reef tearing,
shattered hollow now spinning, now tipping;
Empty depths pull clinging then swilling,
no more hope of salvation, of escaping;
No doubt between those words of this ending,
whose despair I spied not in that beginning;
Soft music of night grows little and fading,
as sorrow’d rain drops cover my tears falling;
If memories were worth of time,
worthy they were this while.