bodies of water
i am drawn to bodies of water.
the atlantic insinuating itself into my childhood, through my twenties --
here i pause, daily, wistful, at lake michigan.
i am drawn to vastness, into which i can place myself,
a drop of something, an insignificance.
the water moves with mathematical precision.
crosslegged, sand grating in my toes,
i watch its turbulence, impotent, content.
there is comfort in a null direction:
no, as you turn to the east, you cannot go that way.
you are adrift.
your life is a constant chain of currents;
floating on your back in the undulating tides.
you are obsessed with the horizon:
the juxtapositions --
in my head are the oceans and the rivers,
a maelstrom, a sucking into the depths.
yet i am here, still,
adrift but floating,
watching the horizon and the shifting tides.