Rime of the Tragic Albatross
By Lex Krowley
I flew across the ancient sea;
Far waters called my soul
Through ice and storm and wind and rain
Till came I through mists cold
And spied from lofty heights above
Some creature on the sea
As great in form as tail-less whale
Yet rope and wood made she.
Perhaps, I thought, a friend this is,
Perchance a place to rest
But nearing, to my shock I glimpsed
Odd being on her chest.
They hailed to me in foreign tongue
So unlike wing-folk speech,
Yet in their tone was reverence
No spoken word can teach.
A few held forth in shiv’ring hand
Some morsel of strange make.
I found on taste, to my delight,
Delicious food to take!
And noted I with piteous glance
Their bodies rimmed with frost;
How sad indeed when such land-folk
In winter should be lost.
I wished to help my newfound friends
But knew not what to do.
Then the ice split not far off;
The whale-ship thing slipped through!
Nine days of joy came thus to pass
With play and food and flight.
The wind gave rise to wing and sail
In glorious day and night.
Then confusion wracked me, for
I saw him with a start:
The man with crossbow raised and drawn
Who shot me in the —