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Marie's Journal \

The Boats



The Boats
By indigo_marie on 09/24/2011
Viewed: 323
Reviews: 2
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Low, gray skies
pressure the darkened lake,
but abandon it to the fog
which grows legs
and creeps about wildly.

Boats sleep upon the shore
like summer ghosts, chilled and waiting--
hibernating against winter''s imminent descent.

Like the boats, we rest apart
never touching any of the other.
Holding ourselves flat against the earth,
tightly to the tangible,
we hope to be swallowed,
to be welcomed beneath
the rocks and dirt.

Something so sad and forlorn about us,
pathetic and too proud
in both our disdain and our dependence.
We wait,
we rot,
and the fog dances
endlessly, frenetically on.


By indigo_marie On 9/24/2011 5:28:52 PM
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