The Earhart Light
He said he saw it bumping
in a place on the coral drift
against a sea of lost aircraft
Amelia is recomposed
in fish and light and small breezes
playing at the edges of Howland
And we who are left to search
deep breaths looking for buttons
find an old regulator come up for air
A rescue from ourselves I think
the little kid on the sandbar
with nothing to do but wait
Whether out far or deep in
we're drowning or waving
a little matter of perspective
As near to us as the moon
in the night sea with Jupiter
these loud waves of a distant god
the endless struggle down, and up towards the light
ReplyDeleteIt was worth a try, Robbie...
DeleteGreat poem Rob, I understand why you liked the mermaid one of mine.
ReplyDelete