December 2008

One Day the Dock Shall Rot

This bleak blank-canvas sky holds no answers,

It holds no signs.

Its signal-red sunsets have been silent for days.

But you know the old saying:

“Red sky at night,

Sailor’s delight”

And how often it proves to be true.

You know how I read into things,

Take symbolism form the curves of the world;

I wish the sky’s blood-red bulletin would reflect its beauty back to us.

We’ve ridden through the storm now for a month and two weeks,

I from the dock, and you from the sea.

Is this the eye?

Is this the eye?

It took me till now to realize

That we are caught in two different storms.

But you said you’d return,

So I will wait.

This dock holds me firm,

This dock is my home,

Until all of its wood rots away,

Falling,

Back into the sea.