Float

Soaked to sinew
weary to the marrow
and treading water
with head just barely
breathing

Cling to the bulk in my arms
A dream I’ve carried from shore to shore
To an ocean of dirt, concrete, and steel

only to find

It does not float
It is more work to hold

Fingers slip
Desperate not from determination
But habit

Gravity pulls it down
And buoyant I rise

And float free

Breathe in slower and sweeter
Kick and stroke less to stay above waves
Watch the stars float silent across my new rise

My muscles miss
My old weight
But my heart does not regret
When I let go of false hope
And found my breath to breathe again

Categories: PoetryTags: ,

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