Fortify now:
You have lost
your astrolabe and cast adrift where souls find no purchase …
sent to the middle of the sea and left to die
You, pathfinder
your celestial measurements, your calibration, your metrics, your calculus
Them out to sea to die
You not the land, the lie,
The land and its lie, a garden lacking any fish, a garden devoid of any stars
You the court astronomer
You were left to die in the engorged abdomen of the large sea
To save his soul from profanation by the creator of the astrolabe, the crystal compass, the copper staves,
You
well
you
yes, and
you,
you,
have drowned your son.