The Wreck of the Penolope, Bordeaux on driftwood

Little pink shades over baby blue eyes
make a violet deeper than
a wine dark ocean that you want
to dive into – maybe she’s
worth getting lost at sea for
but it’s hard to tell when all you
know is that storms are on
the horizon, they crash and howl with
such a show you know they won’t
just wreck your ship – the wind
and rain and lightning will
deconstruct it, the waves will envelop
the planks and canvas, putting them to rest
beneath the turbulent surface and all
that will be left is a sailor floating on
the wine-dark sea of her eyes –
you know this, but still you’re
drunk on the color and the cool
breeze on a warm day and the soft
touch of a gentle hand on your lonely
cheek and you still set sail from Troy.
Author's note:
I personally have a lot of love for the literal color change that sunglasses have so I wanted to start with that as a framing device, where the "rose tinted glasses" make a person seem more dangerous than they do on the surface, and of course, tied that into Homer's Odyssey. Because, who doesn't love a poem about being lost at sea for a decade?
Author's bio:
Taylor Greene is an archaeologist studying at the University of Mississippi. His work is largely inspired from his experience in, and the nature of, the American South. You can find other work by him in Rootstalk, The Cryptonaturalist Podcast, and forthcoming in The Bitchin' Kitsch.