A Photograph of Me - Joseph Strorm

At first it seems to be

a blank

photograph: absent of all colour but white

serene and unblemished;

then,  as you scrutinize

it, you see a fleck of green

blotched with black--

an evergreen branch

hanging down

and black is the ship,

a mass of dark steel--

the messenger of my death.


In the background there is a thunderous sky

and rolling waves far in the distance.

(The photograph was taken

as I perished.


I am frozen in a white shell

strands paralyzing me

and covering the camera lens

for none was left untouched.


If you look close enough

you may see a fleck of skin,

a white, cold fingertip,

for by now it will be dead

and join the mass of white.


You may be able to imagine

what befell me,

for it was the blasphemies who slayed us all--

a fate deserved for themselves.)

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