Tin can Telephone

Mar 13, 2008 - 12:29 PM PST

Out under a benthic sky,
Two outstretched sirens in locks of rye,
Searched mussel-shell stars for folklore and fairy tail,
Wise oaks stood mighty, White owl and nihtingale,
Creatures with heavy hooves prope near,
Rhythm of cricket bow lilting clear,
Knitted hands that held their pair,
This yarn for a tin can, these woolgatherers rare.

By me,
Castrophony
a.k.a. Mary Celeste