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A Case of Irony
February 6, 2016
As the waves come crashing down
Upon us sailor folk,
We need not have our knuckles white
Nor brows the tint of prairie smoke.
As grim Fate knows of irony
And us sea-faring men,
I speak full truth when I do say
That we shall die on land.
© Lily H., Kekaha, HI
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When I first got the idea for this poem, what I pictured was something a lot more Byron-esque, but once I scrambled my brains a bit, I realized that Emily Dickinson's dark humor would lend itself very well to the topic at hand. She is one of my absolute favorites in any case, so I love experimenting with her style.