UnMoored.

I have been absent.
Too many things
crammed into
twenty-four hours.

I am lost in thought
but you are there
perhaps a time or two,
we have been derailed.

I’ve been feeling a bit lost
With one hand holding
onto my past tense
While grasping onto
a future both uncertain
and untenable.

Sometimes
The anchor is stuck
lodged amongst ancient rock far below
Sometimes
I am adrift, and my mooring
has slipped.

Perhaps your voice
in all of its timber and cadence
would soothe
this brewing hurricane
I am uncertain
yet
there is still hope.

Perhaps when I rise
again tomorrow
With sunlight as an assurance
it will all have been a dream.

SES 9/7/22