- The tide goes out
as it does, from time to time.
I thought I was past the point of doubting
its return, fidgeting as I wait,
prodding anxiously at the beached sea-drift
and rehearsing despair.
I seek comfort in both reason and faith: pattern observation
and prayers to make-believe ocean gods.
- You can’t cage a man in a golden band
or a signature in ink or a spoken promise before God;
you can’t make a gift of a clear sky.
Love is just one brand of glue.
Routine, inertia, practicality:
the names of monsters in my closet.
- This is pointless musing. This is internal,
a constellation in the winter sky that represents
boredom and hormones. This is too familiar.
I am the one picking at this scab
and making it bleed.
I’ve learned this lesson before. I remember the theory
but not the application.
Can you think of a life lesson you've learned in theory but have trouble applying to your actual life?