Imagine that sloping deck
getting several degrees closer
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!”