Lost at Sea

[ABennett]

1st Revision (edited):

Doldrums, deathly still.
A phantom drifting.
Limpened sails,
lungs deflated.

There is a mirror down the hall.

A gray sweater
over her black gown,
removes the chill
of the frigid home.

Tempting with reality.

Joints stiff like bones,
the planks groan
in ranks that line the floors
like a ship deck.

Wallpaper reflected. Another step.

Lamps clinging
to dusty walls.
The mirror shines
down the hall.

Now in ghostly sweeps,
a visage within the crystalline sheet
appears – the sunken face,
drowned in sickly light, of a widow.

What depthless, haunted eyes.

Original:

Doldrums.
Deathly,
as dank as dark
mornings.

There is a mirror down the hall.

A grey sweater
over her black gown,
seems to remove the chill
of the frigid home.

Why not take a look?

Joints stiff like bones,
the planks groan
in ranks of hundreds
that line the floors.

Wallpaper reflected. Another step.

Lamps clinging
to dusty walls.
The mirror
within the musty pall.

Now in ghostly sweeps,
a visage within the crystalline sheet
appears – the sunken face of a widow
drowned by sickly light.

What depthless, haunted eyes.