He's in this room? br br He's not being rocked br Side to side. br He's so pale. br He was so brown and br Often red. Strange br To not see him under br The sun, moon and stars. br br A white blanket over him. br White sheets under him. br His head floats on a white pillow br Like a fish head on a cushion of br The whitest sea foam. br All of its color washed out to sea. br br The wrinkles on his face and neck br And the crinkles around his eyes br Seem ironed out by this artificial light. br br His mouth is closed, and br Not singing br To compete with the gulls br And the waves. br br They're silenced now too br Behind the thick glass. br br He would've liked this view of the bay. br The gulls fade away into br The gray after a quick fly by br Of the large window to his room. br br They seem to know he's not coming back. br The sea seems to have lost interest br In the shore. br br A couple of inches above br His feeding tube br The mermaid on his arm is br Dead in the water. A lifeless br Blue and red blob adrift in white water. br br He's never br Getting back his sea legs, br Is he? br br His lips clamp down on br A moist sponge lowered br To his mouth. It's just reflex, br Isn't it? br br His soul has sailed on, br Hasn't it? br br br The white blanket over him br Gently rises and falls. Beneath it br His heart still sails along.