Float

It always disturbs me when
I come across

“winds      waves       tossed”

I wonder if I am

lost?

My days drift between islands

anywhere

in a time of stretch

contract and counteract

I have my gyres of panic

days     weeks     months

when disaster strike and linger

then arrive

washed up by grace

on the face of a new horizon

but

I can’t help going in

for another little dip

soon finding I’m back in a rip

I don’t panic     not one bit

Just float

calm and nonchalant

enjoy the shades of sky

gulls and pelicans fly by

over head       as if I

were perhaps already dead

until this old log mores

on another sandy shore

a new island to explore

oh what a guilty pleasure

to survive           barely