The Ferryman

As a man watches the sun fall

upon the great sea at twilight

if the eve be free of squall

he may see a blaze so bright

of emerald caught in thrall

like fluorescent claws

through the night

That be the passing of souls,

those unlucky to die far from shoals

The ferryman of the dead

be nothing less than kind

Robes made of verdant thread

hold dear the hearts left behind

by the icy cold tempests voyagers dread

Their frigid grips be untwined

by none other than the unjustly feared

ferryman, who ought no less be revered

He who watches that gem of the sea

should know what he spies upon

The dreaded verdant marquis

adopting poor souls he has drawn

Lone spirits turned to haji

Onward they sail until dawn

After which that brilliant flash fades to thin air

as though it never really was there