Echoing thru days of grey,
I wake groping for my sons to hold,
and grieving sink into panicked grief again.
Like broken vessel my hull has cracked, my keel
torn open, my mast shattered and I drift windless.
I ache for calm sea, for singing shoreline lullabies,
my two babies in my arms in blissful doze, no
memory of hollow home. Like lily on vernal pond, send
me gifts of soothing breeze in evenings quiet repose
and aright this broken barq, to love better than before.
Copyright © HighWave Brian | Year Posted 2018
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