She plunged a bucket
into the ocean and never knew
            a ghost-like thing

slipped over the lip.
And when she set
            the bucket down

all night the jelly fish
bobbed and bumped,
            Miss Havisham

in her desiccated lace,
until the dog tied up
            behind the kitchen

knocked and nosed
the bucket around.
            How cold it was

and colder yet,
the ocean shrunk to metal—
            just as the moon

shone down, coldest yet:
exactly how she felt
            when she was not in love.

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