A Grave In Istanbul

A grave in Istanbul He fell down the cargo hold, a long fall the hold’s floor was made of wood and lessened the brutal slam when he hit bottom. He got up, waved to us and climbed the iron- the ladder onto the deck, he said he was ok He was not ok! He had about him something vanishing like his turn of service was over, all he had to do was packing his suitcase and leaving but lingered the ship had been his home for many months He stood on deck on the vanishing day, looking towards the city’s lights, he appeared brittle. No, he was not hungry smoked cigarettes and had dreamy eyes. He was there, but he wasn’t there, which made us uneasy the bright light over his head, a saintly halo. He went to bed early had been a trying day In the morning, he was beyond awakening a broken body, resting for all eternity.