Fishermaid's Death Poem by James Walter Orr

The fishermaid, in green kelp entangled,
Drapes limply, like seaweed, across the dune.
The waves, on whose saltwater she strangled
Reach for her in the pale light of the moon.
Rustling and whirling, the cold-pinched dead leaves,
Catch the wind, and first this way they scurry,
Dancing and swirling where her sailor grieves,
'Til the wind moans and back the leaves hurry.

The stunned sailor from the brown bottle drinks.
The dead girl's mother weeps sadly, quietly.
Monotonous as waves, the light-house blinks,
While the ship rolls in the sea swells, slightly.
Ragged clouds hang against the wind-swept night.
The cold, relentless sea stretches from sight.