The Storm

by R. Saint Claire

Sheets of ocean pierced by Titans
Channeled on Leviathan's back,
Swells and lolls, crests and heightens,
Mounting Sky’s sulphuric crack.

In black, the mad widow divining
From the shore, among the wrack,
A golden sphere from her hand is shining,
Sparkling remnants of the heart she gave.
Tonight--at last her stars aligning--
She’ll lie within his watery grave.