Sail Away

 

I was now the wood: bark heavy, splintered,

sunk. Climb, climb, my mind spoke

and in that moment my engine roared,

propeller spun and I raised the sail,

hair beating the wind.

 

If it wasn’t hard enough trying

to venture out, the road ahead

had disappeared under the flood

and here I was, a boat on wild water,

riding the swell.

 

I could see my past self: sodden,

weighed down, trying to grab a branch,

the top of a fence, a gate (open to let

the healthy through). I couldn’t haul myself up

to mount this wave.

 

I’ll stay on board and sneer at the broken land,

steady my sail and ride, ride, away from

appointments, hospitals, people who can’t

help, won’t help and drop my anchor

when they find a cure.