MindFlights Feature - The sky is the floor of an ocean

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The sky is the floor of an ocean

J. C. Runolfson

Poetry
Speculative

Heaven's a busy port.
Old Pete tallies the souls caught
in lobster traps and nets,
gleaming silver-flash and pyrite-gold
in the corners of weatherworn boats,
the shadows of the docks.
Fishers of men in our watchcaps,
the foam of the sea and God's brew on our lips,
we roll in with the tide,
roar out with it.
We're nothing so fine as a fleet,
a thousand barnacled vessels,
a thousand ancient sailors rimed in salt
chasing the prayer of a catch across the churning water.
Over the waves, Gabby's voice calls out sightings,
rings clearer than church bells.
Mickey in his lighthouse turns his lens on us at night,
catches the scales gleaming along our wings.

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Copyright 2009, J. C. Runolfson. All rights reserved.

J. C. Runolfson's work has appeared in Goblin Fruit, Lone Star Stories, Sybil's Garage, Raven Electrick, and The Sword Review, to name a few. She's also an editor for the flashfiction magazine, Flash Me. She currently lives in San Diego.