Port to Starboard


Contentment layers over me in waves.
A heart that doesn’t ache,
a realization that somehow I will reach
up and out of the melancholy,
no longer angry. I forgive, forget,
fashion a new life from what they have given.

There is much. Sunlight breaks
through the new red bud tree,
a glass of wine shared on the porch,
the dog chases her ball around the yard.
Time is a dip in the cold ocean.

A memory of trolling the Pawcatuck River,
he is at the helm, she preparing snacks.
Cheese and crackers on a paper plate,
while the swans gather and hover for crumbs.
Look, the sun sets in a glorious orange display of wonder.
My breathing rocks gently with the boat’s sway,
deeper, longer. They cook fish
on an open grill, laugh quietly, knowing
to clasp hands and hold on.

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