No Spans of Rope

We desperately clung

to the raft of hope.

No hatches battened,

no spans of rope

to bind us down.

We’d claw and grasp

lest we drown.

Our raft crashed

and sink we did,

we fought, thrashed,

no air, the bib

felt leaden with

the briny depths.

Our parting kiss,

our kiss of death.


© CGT, 2017.

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