spanishleather:

    Sometimes
Before the gods appear
Something is marked:
    A noise. A note, perhaps. Perhaps
A change of temperature. Or else, as now,
The scent of oceanic lavender,
That even as it drew his mind
Drew from the seal-coloured sea onto the beach
A mist that moved like weed, then stood, then turned
Into his mother, Thetis’, mother lovelost face,
Her fingers, next, that lift his chin, that push
His long, redcurrant-coloured hair
Back from his face, her voice, her words:

    ”Why tears, Achilles?
Rest in my arms and answer from your heart.”

    And the sea, so still
It looks like a metal plate.

-Kings, Christopher Logue