WHAT REMAINS

we are what remains
after the storm --
flotsam
nestled in turbulent waves,
pieces we might retrieve
that tell the story
of who we once were,
of how handsome
and proud
we stood
tethered to the dock,
of how tame
the ocean seemed
and how blue
the dome of sky
and of how
when they gathered
to bid us fare well
we took it with
a grain of salt
for there was nothing
that could take us
to the bottom
but a storm
our fathers dreamed,
and that, we knew,
we could overcome

(63 unique words)