Another avalanche rush
rolls against the timbers...
I, caught in a strange sea,
Stand alone on deck this morning.
Communication from others not forthcoming,
no fettered pigeons,
no signal lights,
no crackling on the radio set.
Alone with my liquid anxiety,
flying the dutchman,
here waiting for whomever you are,
Nessie, Bessie, Moby Dick,
I wait for thee,
as I heft my spar, and clutch my stomach.
Do you feel this way too?
Is it but an interlude?
Are we all waiting to be caught again
in the roving bright circle of the lighthouse eye?
Is it land ahead, or aft?
Did we forget the map of whatever
faceless ocean we find ourselves?
Are we lost without depth charts?
Do we worry how resilient the ship?
Are there pirates in these waters,
are there hull cracking rocks nearby,
do sharks swim below us?
Can question marks serve as rescue buoys?
Where is that light?
Why won't it swing thus?
Where is this?
When is dawn to come?
In what air do you breathe this moment.
3 comments:
There was a map?
Well fuck, you coulda shared it with me before you lost it.
Sometimes the current takes you where you need to be. And I am ok with trusting it.
"When is dawn to come?"
...Interesting question...
How did I miss this before??
;)
"silly rabbit"
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