Mid-way between life and death

I drift into myth and legend

Glide over the Messini Straits

 

The blood of Zeus

drips from his hands

swelling black clouds

 

curdling the sky with purple fingers

in the red of a rising sun

and I hear the screams of dying men

as their heaving groaning ships sink

in Charibdes whirlpool

swirling ... swirling

swirling to the depths of her imagination

and I am blown away

in a whisper of her outward breath

 

the voice of a nymph seems to say

down sucker down