now

you might be drifting away

i don’t want you to go but

there’s not enough space here right now

for two:

for you and

for the person i might become.

//

then

…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.

//

soon

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.