Olivia Chevron

Ancient Games - A Found Poem

The Cornish men of sweaters
are lighting up their pipes,
eschewing controversy for
the shadows of the night.
 
They kneel with arms akimbo
as they hum the Morpeth Rant.
The English smell them praying
to the Celtic cormorant.
 
The ship set sail at midnight
with the crew upon the deck.
The captain stood at daybreak
with a noose around his neck.
 
His widow wept in Cornwall
while the mayor raised his stick.
The bird descended lightly
as the knitting needles clicked.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Olivia Chevron.
Published on e-Stories.org on 11/02/2006.

 

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