365 Poems – 158 Sea (Rough First Draft)

Sea

 

I kicked driftwood

a hunter once cherished,

and invented regret.

 

I went to the sea

to smooth down

my splintered edges.

 

I wanted to sleep

on its back, let

waves smooth out

creases in my soul.

 

I never wanted

to leave it, remain

wet, glowing, silent.

 

But the sea, when

I came, was far out,

so I explored my

trench of isolation.

 

When it did come,

it arrived with

a trembling howl.

 

There was a reshuffling

of my spirit, and

I was left behind.

Advertisements