a shaven head full of powerful

incantations and enough fuel for a one-way journey into history

But halfway there she thought recounting it later to her children

he must have looked far down at the little fishing boats strung out like bunting on a green blue translucent sea

and beneath them arcing in swathes like a huge flag waved first one way than the other

in a figure of eight the dark shoals of fishes flashing silver as their bellies swivel towards the Sun

and remembered how he and his brothers waiting on the shore built Cairns of pearl gray pebbles

To see who would stood longest the turbulent and rush of breakers

Bringing their father's boat safe. Yes

Grandfather's boat safe to the shore salt sodden awash with cloud marked mackerel black crabs

Feathery prawns the loose silver of white bait and once a tuna the dark prince

muscular dangerous

and though he came back my mother never spoke again in his presence nor did she meet his eyes

and the neighbors too. They treated him as though he no longer existed only we children still chattered and laughed

Till gradually we too learned to be silent to live as though he had never returned

that this was no longer the father we loved

and sometimes she said he must have wondered which had been the better way to die