This is the last goodbye, the final salute. <br />From beneath the cover of a flag <br />the ensign is assisted down the chute <br />so neither flank nor limb can catch a snag. <br /> <br />Then at last his sunken eyes see light, <br />and he sets foot into the promised land. <br />Effulgent plankton there redeems his sight, <br />Elysium of bright seaweed and sand. <br /> <br />How glorious his underwater grave, <br />even though above, the stone-faced captain <br />sees a guilty spectre in each wave, <br />and dejection overwhelms the chaplain. <br /> <br />And the crew? They’re busy swatting flies, <br />the smoke from guns still burning in their eyes.<br /><br />Leo Yankevich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/metaphysics-2/
