UNTERGANG

 

there may be a thousand words
to describe the sea

none of them would
describe the fear and emotion
as I wade in the water

words–more or less
does not matter–unless spoken
in whispers, I can hear them
with only the wind to guide me

a piece of driftwood
in battled seas

drifting…

…lonely

wood…

battered with each wave
still–when waters are calm.

a storm approaches!
wood scarred and splintered
would wade no longer

I…

…am

drowning…

who will come in after
and save me?

Image by Peter Peryer

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