These lonely ships over wine-dark waters carry the sons of mothers long trained to cry in secret if they cry at all. So much has been swallowed already. Mothers, when you go, too, may you sing what went before you and after, what was taken into the void you know so well and will not be recovered except by the rare fruit of your trembling womb, in the long-awaited retelling. Give us their stories again.
Floating Exile
In the pause before the next beginning.

This evoked a literal as well as the more esoteric response here … I saw the men being transported across the Atlantic in WW1! … carried to the land that would run red with the blood of so many …
Thank you for sharing this with me, Amaya. I had similar images in my head. I was reading the “wine dark sea” passage in the Odyssey and finding it impossible not to picture the many crossings that have been made over that same sea, often by people who are fleeing wars in their homeland. Your reading adds yet another layer. Hugs to you, sister!