Shipwrecked
Bone-tired,
salt-sprayed for years
exhaustion
washed longing from my body.
I
listen for a siren
and
welcome rocks.
I
take the broken mast and scattered timber
and
build a bridal suite
where
some day a tree,
resilient
of her marriage bed,
would
growing, start to die.
This
is a time, though stubborn,
when
my spirit could be won over
and
yet I drown again
at
home where the ships all burn.
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