Ghost Galleon

Ghost Galleon

hollow boat
upon the sea
no one alive
rudder swings free
yet she comes in
to dock number three
aglow with unearthly light

stevedores
will not go near
no one argues
with their fear
chilled unnatural
the danger is clear
it is the Flying Dutchman

the darkest hour
before the dawn
the ship sets off
damnation drawn
eternal wanderers
souls been pawned
trapped on the Flying Dutchman

┬ęDonna Maurice poem 2017

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Winterberry

Pyracantha tree berries, after the leaves have fallen.

Pyracantha tree berries, after the leaves have fallen.

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