Crushed in the Ice
They sailed too far through seas of blue ice
jagged peaks soaring above
the mast, blocking the wan sun.
A thousand Circes urged them on
until one night they were trapped,
open water black and far away,
the ship listing, slowly being crushed.
Later, did they think
Of sunlight on the deck as it broke apart,
groans of the dying ship, the monstrous ice grinding?
Did they recall their screams as feeling returned to frozen limbs
the stinking rag between their teeth as blackened fingers
were cut away?
Were they wiser for it, crumbling soft white bread
into their mouths just for the pleasure,
holding the baby close and cradling its warm milky head?
Or did they long to return?
Grace Massey has been a writer and editor for over 30 years and has studied classical ballet for almost as long. She lives in Newton, MA, with her husband and cat, and texts daily with her daughter, a romance novelist.
7/2/2022 03:02:13 pm
Dear Grace Massey, just to say that after reading your poem "Palindrome: Meadow" in the new issue of The Tiger Moth Review, I set out to find and read more of your poetry and am delighted so thoroughly by this one too that I had to say so. Both poems are so beautifully haunting.
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