The faces, the indecent rocking of the ship between destinations,
the trail of yellow foam like misery on the water, the faces in passivity
under the sails, the crowd of fortune, the quiet rhythm, sleep that never
comes, the nearing port, the daunting, menacing knowledge of nothing.
The games that they play, heartless and repetitive, on the decks,
cards flying out into the waves at times, the blood like ice in their veins,
the fish in dark ascending movements underneath their feet, unnoticed,
their weightlessness passing, their scales flashing in the darkness.
The faces are there and will be again, they speak of what cannot be changed
and longs to be so, the huge ship swaying like a ghost, filled with voices,
one, then two, then three, all in one sound, swaying, beautiful thing
in the hands of the sea, slowly creating, slowly erasing the created shape
in the next ample movement of disarray, in the next voice heard and the
next being silenced.

This poem is from the collection The World Is In Your Head (Ginninderra Press, 2001)
Photo credit: Edwin Levick, public domain, Immigrants Approaching Statue of Liberty

 

Mélanie Francès Hutson was born in Paris, France. She grew up in Europe but lived for four years in New Delhi, India, as a child. As a college student, she discovered her gift for writing and developed an interest in the arts and American literature. She later moved to Montreal, Canada to pursue her graduate studies at Concordia University and obtained an M.A. Degree in English and Creative Writing. In 2001, she published her first chapbook of poetry, The World is in your Head, with Ginninderra Press in Australia. In 2008, she published her collection of poems Anatomy of a Love Affair (My Life in the Movies) with Salmon Poetry in Ireland. She now lives in Maryland where she is currently raising her son Noah and writing about books on Instagram at @mybookhunter.