Chandeliers tilt in the ship’s dining room,

Like tiny jewels and clinking laughter.

The waves push from side to side,

A crescendo of force,

As cold as ice,

The cruel whims of the sea.

People stagger backwards and forwards,

Down corridors, up flights of steps,

Stumbling, feverish.

No one can walk straight.

The passengers grope around in semi darkness,

Hoping and praying not to fall.

Outside, the sky is empty and abandoned,

Save for the wind and rain and the clusters of clouds.

© Lawrence Estrey 2018

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