Treading Water (Willingly)
Adrift, adrift (my usual trip)
In icy, unmapped sea,
A splintered spar my only ship—
I clutch it willfully.
Afloat, afloat, each nerve alive,
I brave what is to be,
Instead of cowering, to but survive
On land, secure, not free.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
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