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Selma Martin is the Poet of the Week for this week’s Poetry Prompt #84 W3 Weekly We’ave.

Selma’s prompt guidelines
Imagine a person from an old memory looking in on you through an open window. 

You’d all but forgotten about this person, but today their presence has given rise to this memory.

What do you see? What’s going on?

Write this as a Memory Poem:

Purge this memory out of your system; allude to the memory; banish the memory; 

Poem length: 100 – 300 words; 

The poem must end with these words: “Let him/her look”


A Memory Poem?
A memory poem reflects on and celebrates personal memories and experiences, often evoking feelings of nostalgia, joy, or sadness.

The prompt asks that the poem is between 100—300 words. My poem LOST AT SEA is 289 words. My memory poem is a memory of a yachtsman I once knew, and was lost at sea.

Lost at Sea

I smell salt sea air
enter through a crack in the window.
I glance up.

What! 
How can this be?
I am aghast!
Is that you?
Looking in at me 
through the glass?
How can this be?
They left you there,
in the past
In the deepness of the sea

With no goodbye. 
No bid adieu.
Under thundered sky 
they looked for you.

Why do you look at me through the glass?
How come you have returned?
To home at last?
From tortured bowsprit and broken mast.
From wild waves that crash
From the shark and wrasse?
From the vast and hungry sea?
How can this be?

Your crew survived to tell the tale,
Their eyes full of fear and dread,
did say—
you opened the hatch and said,
“Oh God, what have I done?”
The sea smashed over the gunwale,
and came in like shot from a cannon—
and washed you away.

How come you here?
From the past?
To look at me
through the glass?

I’m afraid to blink,
This is bizarre,
I need a drink.
I need a bar.
I dare not blink.

How have you come back so far?
Why are you here?
On shore?
This cannot be. 
What do I see?
Are you a ghost?
A phantom—
something eerie?
A spectre?
A magic spell, or potion?

Is this my imagination?
A film-reel—
a dream?
This is surreal—
I think I’ll scream.

Alas, alas, alas!
Why do you stare at me through the glass?

Then I blink,
My heart forsook,
My breath a cool breeze that sighs.
I cannot believe my eyes!
You are still there staring through the glass.
Looking at me.

I close my book,
And my eyes.
Let him look.
~

Lesley Scoble, December 2023

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NOTES

Gunwale
In my poem I mention gunwale. Its original use was as a reinforcement to support guns and artillery fire. Today it is the strengthened top edge of the hull of a ship or boat. The gunwale can also be the narrow side ledge/deck running along the length of the boat.

Bowsprit
I also mention a bowsprit. The bowsprit is the spar that extends forward from the prow of a sailing vessel. It is used to provide an anchor point for the forestays. (It’s the pole that sticks out forward from the bow of the boat.)

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you Selma for your memorable prompt. My thanks as always to David, The Skeptics Kaddish for your motivating weekly Poetry Prompt.

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Lesley lives in the City of London Square Mile. An artist, actor and sculptor (her first ceramic sculpture won the V&A inspired by… Award). Scenic artist & book illustrator, playwright, (her musical play, Rapscallion performed in inner city schools and theatre school); TV dancer; Animator and illustrator for TV production. Set up Pinecone Studios Ltd and IIMSI Ltd drama and filmmaking workshops in London – producing award-winning films made by children.