Friday, February 8, 2008

in unchartered waters

in unchartered waters,

when the
pulses too orange,
the sky horribly
vast, and gravity both pushes and pulls......
when drowning becomes a
choice better than swimming, and
even treading water is too strenuous-

i seek anchorage.

a comfortable circumference security
in hemp
plenty of fish and a
small craft in which to catch my breath
salty tears of relief
like a newborn
seeking comfort in its mother’s breast;

when the
becomes a dutiful
cross too heavy to bear and
i, noose-clad choking in my
own martyred creation,
am struggling in circles-

i long for the horizon.

pounding heart in search of waves
paddling frantically waiting
for the crack
to open between sky
and sea
fierce and romantic
like an 8-year-old girl
with a brand new bike
and everywhere to


1 comment:

Jim Thomsen said...

I find myself often scrabbling for a toehold on the sheer cliffs of most poetic imagery ... but, curiously, the line about the world being open to an 8-year-old girl on a bike clicked with almost perfect serendipity for me.

Nicely done.