{ pathetic.org }
 

Castaway

by Matthew Zangen

Morning is a tearing of the eyelids;
light sifting through porous thoughts
while sea salt sews and smooths each
intentional splinter in the driftwood.


The last effort was a left hand, distant,
asleep and outstretched across the ocean,
still holding itself intently,
ready for some reprise from a dim horizon

while the right hand washes in the currents,
spinning desparately for motion
as kelp floats by,
wading for an unknown shore.

On a distant rocky bed, a lighthouse whirls,
grateful still for every passing tide.

06/25/2007

Posted on 06/26/2007
Copyright © 2020 Matthew Zangen

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 1 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2020 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)