Crossing the deck
it’s eating the pillars, charring the floor boards,
dissolving umbrellas that are supposed to protect us.
The captain shrinks away, not holding his own either.
The chairs on which we sit
are afloat in its efflorescence.
Only the deck hands are still about,
hurriedly resetting the tables
It won’t take much: only one more prickle of photons
to fry our brains
to make us retreat.
So back to the cabins.
Time to put several layers
of ten core steel
between us and the sunlight.