Not a Sea Shanty

Dawn of one more Fool’s Day brings
a piece of news,
a joke no more.
Promised life, though newly springs,
I cannot know.
You shut that door.

If I am inside, the walls
like tall strangers,
turn their eyes far.
If outside, this loneliness
is vast as space
with fewer stars.

In the window yet I see
your figure turned
with aspect hard,
and beyond, the ancient tree
my name scratched out
with ashes charred.

Reflected also, my own face
distorted as
a monster shamed.
Sometimes you I curse, or place
fault on myself,
and choke on blame

We were two of sisters three.
With pasts entwined,
and childhood gone.
But here’s how ships are lost at sea:
when moorings break
we are alone.

———
http://www.napowrimo.net/2013/04/day-3/

I wrote this before I noticed that there was a daily prompt. Somehow a ship got in there anyway.
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