Morgan Downie

farfalla

migration season
the trade winds turn
blowing north

up across
the blue eye’d
mediterranean

that middle passage
whose depths are
seeded with bones

ship graves
their hulls stream
with tidal veils

as on rescue boats
uniformed sailors oil
their gun sights

a closed
blue door
to meet them

the old greeting
for returning
ghosts

Previously published by New Boots and Pantisocracy

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