National Poetry Month 14 – Nearer My God to Thee

Imagine that sloping deck

getting several degrees closer

to perpendicular.

The small band lingers on the deck

the boys are playing ragtime

light, airy tunes to keep the crowd calm.

Those black tuxedos don’t keep them warm

clouds of breath encircle well-coiffed heads.

Steam pours from the tops of the funnels

brass horns blow in the dark night

the stars of the Milky Way scintillate

in the eyes of the those milling about

waiting for a chance at a seat in a lifeboat.

A couple begin dancing to the waltz they’ve

started playing, gentle

one two threes

One two threes

making little dipping moves, paying homage

to the submerging bow

the still lit portholes casting pale yellow

light into the night-black sea.

A signal flare fires up into the air

Its explosive flash

Reflects off of the icebergs

and makes the crowd ooh.

“Its such a festive thing sinking

Into the Atlantic, I wish we could

Do this every season!”

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