Wandering, Not Lost
He just slipped away
no one noticed his leaving
as he drifted
rudderless, ambivalent,
mocked by the windless sails
of tattered memory.
He would return
sit idly
anchored to a moment
his voyages vague longings,
failing sunsets
erasing cold horizons.
His empty sailboat strains
against old tides,
aches to feel the rise
of salted crests,
celebrate each creaky
brine stained board.
To sail
……..into his emptiness
………….alone.
©12/4/2021
Pick A title Vol 27 Poetry Contest
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment