It would seem, from the sound of it, slang
?In Her Majesty’s Navy, say, circa
?Trafalgar”the deckhand whose job was
?To heave-ho the anchor aboard,
?The chain like a slain sea serpent?
Collecting in coils behind him.
Or maybe a meteor fragment,
?Some glittery space-coal without
?Any real industrial uses”
?A novelty, anchorite, sold
?In the rock-box next to the quartzes
?At a science museum gift shop.
You would never imagine it wanted
?To sail in the other direction,
?A rare earth dreaming of heaven
?And pulling its rosary beads
?Like the links in a chain that leads
?To the sea floor, and the iron that anchors it.
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