Calm After the Storm

We were broken pieces of driftwood,
Scattered aimlessly across the sand,
Miles and miles apart.

As the waves washed over us,
We traveled father and farther
From each other's touch.

There was nothing but the memories
That had kept us close
Even through the storms.

And when the fisherman walked by,
He saw we needed fixing,
Bringing back our friendship.

But there were still the differences,
The splinters of wood missing
From our simple ensemble.

The calm after the traumatic losses,
That repeatedly reminded us
Something tragic had happened.