Inspired by The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart
Across an ocean beach of blue,
Her PTSD whistle bangs the tune against a lighthouse dull
Her past reflects
It’s synged
It’s bruised
Stiffen up you DUMB backbone
she repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats and repeats
Of all the years that float adrift
Of that which is already blown to bits
A Mariners call into the dead black night
Pain aloft
Her whine, her song
Stand near the flame
Don’t blow the torch
Words can’t remain
in this hollow tomb.