The Oarsman written by James Gabriel at Spillwords.com

The Oarsman

The Oarsman

written by: James Gabriel

@James_Gabriel1

 

The oarsman is coming!
His body rows
in steady rhythm.
Eyes peer
with fixed appetite.
Paddles dip
the murky brine.

My memories are not my own.
I have stolen my fire
Stolen a seat at the table.
He is here to collect.
Quietus descends.

The oarsman is coming!
I did not live on the
banks of the Mississippi.
I did not fight in the
Spanish-American War.
I did not die in the
rubble of an air raid in 1941.

Disconsolate, I claw
at the earth, ripping my
nails. My eyes blurry with ache.
I can only see the shape
of my destination.
My watery coffin draws near.

The oarsman is here!

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