you might be drifting away
i don’t want you to go but
there’s not enough space here right now
for you and
for the person i might become.
…suddenly i’m deluged in
deep lucid saxe eyes
you blink me back afloat
until our own moon-ruled tide
pulls me too far out to see, to
breathe even, but then
i catch my breath, cleanse our fears
in light serein again
tempests pass but
i’ll face what i believe to be true
this sea may, one day,
sing our darkest blues.
what comes next, after loss?
when glass meets horizon, i’m sure,
i’ll wave a woeful goodbye and trawl
myself back to shore.
a faraway bottle holds ashes
like in tragedies past,
a prayer or surrender to this ocean, vast
in its great will to whisper, to roar at me when
it’s time to rise from the driftwood
and begin again.
Image courtesy of Scott Van Hoy.