Poetry

A Word is Everything – John W Sexton

The very last ship
in the inkbottle
goes down with all hands.

The waters are
impenetrably dark,
their depths a mystery.

A navy-stained whale
breaks the surface
of the navy sea.

A drifting sailor
hauls himself up on a piece
of bobbing cork.

Now heโ€™s navy
through his skin,
can write with his tongue.

All along the horizon
struggling sailors tongue pleas
against the circular sky.

Lapping tides
wash the sky navy –
navy is the last word.

Navy stains everything
as deep as itself; history,
the future, everything.

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