Marooned: ‘when the gusts came around to blow me down I held on as tightly as you held onto me’ – cin.orchestra

I cannot see you
‘cross the sound,
save the glimpses where
I’m good at dreaming things
like you,
there on the sand bar,
and you’re standing
with eyes squinted,
your hand a brim
to block the sun as you
search, too, for me.

You cannot see me
through the morning fog,
her low-hanging cloud that
may or may not be
all your very own,
but that doesn’t stop you,
from wading through it
as if to swim,
trusting there’s land
where you last saw him.

we see you each
here at play and laughing
‘neath the pear tree
by the crimson Ferry House
as if nothing else ever was
but right now,
a home from home for some,
as if the ship that wrecked
that brought you here
was the best thing
that ever could’ve happened

or, it seems,
we’ve come to learn
to be marooned alone
isn’t so bad
if you know who you are.


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