October 27, 2023Two Months Before My 65th Birthday
There is no lifeboat, no raft,
no deserted island with coconut trees
and fresh water. You can’t slow down
the waves. You swim, you float, you drift,
you dream of the early years when the sea
seemed to obey the sound
of your voice. No more. You’re tossed
like a dead fish
back and forth, waiting to be eaten or to sink
to the bottom. You forgot the cost
of living, ignored the level of risk
involved once you left shore.
You’re born wet and then live at the mercy
of the currents, the trade winds, the water warming.
Breathe in. No lifeboat in sight. Breathe out. No oars.
from #81 - Fall 2023