The Longest Dive
By Joseph A. W. Quintela

none knew the story precisely
not the one claimed unto the icy depths
nor the one who tried to save him
nor the one who later heard the account
only to paint a haunting portrait
of disembodied hands that played
a requiem upon the waves

the landscape drawn in harmony
beyond the concert grand

nor I
who would later gaze upon the canvas
and be impelled to write these words
the observer twice removed
transposing from the brushstrokes
sifting through the echoes
to confront the steep crescendo
of loss that spans each life

flotsam loosened and dispersed
into a thousand sinking mallets

the struck chord
is not the story Wyeth told
in his swaths of tinted water

it is another
that whispered in the ear
of one who was enraptured

of one who now sails forth

under the gaze of Bauby’s ghost
the eye transformed into a lighthouse
lit to warn the erring vessel
from the jag-toothed rocks
that lie in wait beneath the sea

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