Cast adrift

drownA daylight moon guides my eye

As far and wide I look on

Rowing against the wind

Holding the link for safety

Taking it up and away

From deep descending despair

Until another goodbye

You disappear from view

 

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Driftwood

Gnarled, sitting lonely at the edge of the beach,
perhaps the old man has nothing left to teach
as we sit and re-hear old stories of how he arrived.
We’ve heard often how he survived
the struggling of the sea
and how, hands knotted, knuckles kneading the sand
he claimed this spot,
living free.
But now he’s unsettled, loose and
with sudden farewell
as the sea with a final unprecedented swell
reclaims our familiar host,
and takes him distant to another coast.