Walking On Jigsaw Waves
crowded, my feelings -
rolling hitch.
i lay on the broiler pan
scorched, unturned.
even if
i could climb to the top
of a mountain,
spy out the lay of the land,
i’d only see spears of rain
landing on the sea, on the dock;
glaring up at me
“You’re next!”
my progeny making mincemeat.
the waves lapping, higher and higher
in the boat,
imagined tapping -
high heels heavily polished,
skirts over my head.
i’m drowning.
dreaded
the text, the letter, video chat
which way to turn.
the multidirectional scarecrow’s
no help; never was.
the heart
throbs, the pain
of love.
no one knows
except a woman
walking on jigsaw waves,
falling
through the gaps,
gasping for air
with no one to catch,
as i sink in despair,
yet...
my spouse snatches me up
by the back of my shirt,
shakes off the wet dog look,
sets me on dry land,
wraps
a towel around my wounds,
looks into my eyes
with laser precision,
with the brain
of a tinman.
i pound on his coat of arms;
he says
“Look! There’s no witch around.”
we get on our knees.
we raise our hands above the fray.
we hear the song of heaven’s angels,
a ladder lowered for us to climb,
higher and higher.
the chimes, of a grandfather clock,
answer the piquant question
in ways not imagined
on earth.
calmness of a clear blue sky
floating on unencumbered clouds —
agape all around.
7/10/2020
*Rolling hitch - a type of sailor knot
**agape - the highest of loves
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
