amaze me machine. | home
an italian mother's tragedy.
The rain between Carthage and Sicily was atrocious
yet the oar powered vessel presses on
through steel sheets of liquid
breaking the canvas sail, causing it to fly back home to Sicily
where some tedious man labored over the seems and stitches for hours
back home it flies, away to it's maker
the oars churn the broken water beneath the wooden boat
no one could hear the daughter's cries over the
deafening booms
no one could see her hands slip over the splinters
through the dark and raging water
a mother cries aloud "we will not survive"
yet the feeble boat presses on
a petty nuisance to the swelling waves
a matter of time before the great sea becomes fed up
with the insignificant boards and planks
and pitches it all carelessly into the sky
despite the cries of the curly headed daughter
"we will not survive"
and yet they continue on through the aching black
and cringe at the sting of slapping rain
she did not see the child lean to the right
parallel with the motion of the mighty sea
and grasp the slimy wood with the two small paws
of a toddler
Carthage just a dream away
Sicily two nightmares and a pair of rotten shoes behind
yet just within her view
the small girl disappears beneath the water
and slowly sinks to a layer of rocks
she crawls below the sediment, closes her eyes, and falls asleep
the lonely mother screams at the empty boat
and plunges herself into the great mouth of the sea
only to be overcome with disappointment
when the great monster spits her back out and shatters her throughout the stars
it was a sunlit dawn when the tiny ship pulled up to the beach
the only element to make it to Carthage
who held only the memory
of the curly headed daughter
and the canvas sail
and the discrete pleasure it brought the mother when someone would say
"wow, you're daughter sure does have pretty hair."