Stories Untold

Stories Untold
by Megan Figgest

An empty suitcase lies open on deck
With the smell of Earth heavy in the air

Women toil
They fold stained linen sheets and scrub scratched wooden floors
Removing the mud
Moving in their restless human way

The waves shape their journey
Weaving the past together with the future

New Zealand; a foreign word
Sits like thick dirt on their tongues

And the thought scratches the surface of their minds
Will the grass be greener beyond the blue sea?

They are just nameless numbers
Searching for themselves
On a ship bound for the unknown, promising nothing
Left with an empty suitcase to be filled

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