[Jeffrey]

one silver key

Tonight, when I look up at the stars, I shall shed
my preconceptions, and I will see neither myself,
nor someone else, nor a heavenly host toasting my
continued health. But when I squint, I shall still see
something better glinting around the corners of these
slate-gray urban estates that rise up to scrape the skies.

You shall know us by our addictions,
the ash trailing in our wake, the fierce
breaths we take, the faces we make as
the waves scatter on deck, embracing
the remnants of our brewed courage,
taking our refuse to the bottom of the
stormy gray sea.

You shall know us by our addictions,
and the epiphany shall set you free.

We shall know the morning by the skies
at night, know the constellations by sight
and the winds by taste and we shall pace
the deck with glasses aloft and ghost stories
offered softly between friends, tales of
apostles emerging from shipwrecks and
tyrants meeting their end from bayonets
and situational irony. You shall know our
small talk and songs, and the notes you see
between the lines shall set you free.

Standard notation, a symphony that
begins and ends in the key of G, one
eye going blind but a mind as sound
as a vessel entrusted to the ocean.
Our moment, your movement, His motion.

Banners and flags at half mast, the sails
unfurled at last, the drinker up in the crow's
nest wishing us the best and predicting stormy
seas, we gather at the hatch that leads
below deck and debate a sleeping savior, we're
struck by wine blindness and common sense,
picturing a spiralling staircase leading to
sunken cities, but needing someone to come
calm the sea, we reach for the door, we
brandish one silver key.

[Skeeter]

Of the poems you've posted today, this is my favorite. I especially enjoy "bayonets and situational irony." Superb.