A Fish Out of Water
So far from ocean,
here.
No pounding waves or crashing surf.
As Nantucket weighs,
heavy and deep.
In my sleep
I hear bell-buoys.
It”s only a dehumidifier
droning,
as the engine of a ship.
Yet,
I turn and list
avoiding shoals and reefs.
Tossing in my sleep,
I”m a fish on dry land
with a sered eye
of rainbow.
Ship-wrecked.
I dream
of
home.
***