No one was
alone
in that sea
of starfish
though few
names
had been
spoken,
tumbling in
empty rain
and rolling
roaring waves.
Clothes, shoes,
money were lost
by the time
the new land
appeared
and the storm
blissfully
stopped.
The moon lit
the sea,
and recognised
the soft, pink ones
as hers.
She gave them names
that could not
be taken or spoken
but were known.
Star hand in
star hand
they walked
to shore
together.
I wrote this poem about five times, all different- I couldn’t settle on one. I hope this one will do justice to something- I was thinking about refugees coming across the sea and thinking about loss and grace and gain all at the same time.
Inky Cat's Poems 