***

Overturned by a cloud on the shores of light
 Tortoiseshell shield dragging
 In the silence of ants on the page
 The astonished sea
 
 And slow as a candle
 On the rugged tin of the rocks -
 The Albatross over my shoulder.
 Ascending to the pier
 
 Far from the hooves of the capital
 I remembered (I knew it)
 These dead were not alive
 I haven't met any living ones yet