... poems ..., ... poetry ...

contemplations and depressions: The Boat Man

this morning came quick.  vibrant

yellow.  invaders of dark mornings.

ramble and bramble and fashion for

me a walking stick.  something solid

to take underneath her green bosom.

in that canopy let us lose some of

ourselves.

last night slept in my space.  moon

and lark staring through my window

your place was empty.  a soft depression

in the sheets.  egyptian.  1000 thread count.

is this my life?  walks in supermarket

lines, examining all of the empty

ring fingers?  tracing the eye-line

for other searchers.  perhaps we will

bump into one another near

the canned vegetables.  long since dead.

i’ll drop my Rice Krispies and you’ll drop

your lightbulbs and hair color.

then what?  stammering.  stumbling.

so we bump heads while kneeling

to grab our wares?  do we?  continue

this one life as different lives?

i daydream these things as

my fingers trace the empty outline

of you in these sheets.  egyptian.

1,000 thread count.  but

i’ll pass.  thank you very much.

instead, here are my two

coins for the boat Man.

may that River bear me up soon.

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One thought on “contemplations and depressions: The Boat Man

  1. The Butterfly Girl says:

    Through thin straws,
    breathe panic-shallow,
    until the words fade,
    and the moments blur.

    Only then will Charon
    guide you in grace
    across the river
    that already knows
    you.

    ———-
    a little mini-response comment. 🙂

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