Where Monsters Wait

How deep was once the ocean?
How perilous was once the sea?
Unknown dangers graved the monstrous depth.
From crow’s nests mates
watched leviathans breech
and deadly doldrums lie in wait,
to snare mariners, take them hostage
and bind them with skeins of fate.
Explorers lost even as keels ground
on an uncharted, unknown reef.

My analyst could not comprehend;
the pain of dreams and memories,
my inward journey.
Perhaps PTSD did not exist
in his diagnostic manual.
Sadly, his father had died when
he was a boy. Still mourning,
how could he understand?

All that now gone as satellites observe
the billions’ progressing on road, and sea,
and high above. No mysteries left,
none unexplored. Only the heavens wait.
We will reach them yet, in ships
powered by a different wind.

Now, my father is also dead.
Sitting shiva, I said my lies
and grieved in make-believes.
Nobody wanted to hear the truth.

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About the Author

Ken Weene’s stories and poetry have appeared in numerous publications. His novels and other books, most published by ATTM Press, can be found on Amazon. Ken’s novella "The Stylite " was written while he was in residence at the Writers’ Colony. It is one of three pieces in his Broody New Englander.

Kenneth Weene
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