Sea Wyvern

Secured by a rolling hitch,
And with your sheets held fast,
You set sail on your hospital bed;
In that instant, the ocean tilts
And the wyverns begin to dance,
Flicking their scaled tails
Into the helix of the storm;
Language spins in the backwash
Fragmenting to shells and spindrift.
Here and there
A gem, a polished piece
Of sea-glass or painted china;
Perfectly remembered.
Treasured in texture, in tone, in hue;
Time held taut,
Suspended like sediment in saltwater.
Collectors work to net your words together
Cat’s paw, clove, bowline, reef;
Doctor, nurse, neighbour, friend;
Relatives look on,
At the surface, steadfast;
Inside, reeling in your wake.

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