In the waiting

weights wrap wrists,

ankles

air thick, clotting

a sourceless-sadness laps

the edges of my awareness

rising and receding

to the rhythm

of noknowntide

the air grows thin-and-light clouds retreat

could I float away

untethered —

eyes pinch closed

the tide creeps in

each lapping

wave claiming

one

more

inch

the clouds seep in muting

shades

of sky

and sea

eyes at ease

slow, small bites slow,

small sips

drip,

drip

too much

my skin will

vomit it up

sand sinks

scent stings

clouds cling

to my cheeks

push lungs, push

drink down viscous, salted air

grip toes, grip

curl ‘round pliant, sucking sand

rise face, rise

lift to sky-obscuring clouds

out across the blue and green and grey, gently tossing

just in from the horizon I spot a small boat, a fishing vessel

a white-winged bird alights on its bow

about the author: rebecca dennison

Rebecca Dennison is a recovering song-writer, rediscovering poetry, song-writing, and creativity, after a 10-year dry spell. She lives in Nagoya, Japan but can currently be found in her home state of Kentucky.

Instagram: rebeccadennison

http://acrookedstick.com/