Shipwrecked

How dumb I was when I danced into that countryside floral patched square of greenery and an expectation that was no more than a rogue wave, tilted and uncanny as the solar eclipse, washed me up like a dead seal to your shore of lure and promise, hot and heavy as a snowdrift, then changed into the finality of a shipwreck. I was the aftermath of young parents, who toured the ruins of Athens before they hit thirty.