Melancholy no. 9

And we sit amongst our oceans
Our furious compassions
that the days will dam
And yet against our better judgement
We are want-y, feely
Creatures

And we cannot dam the oceans
Those battened down blue hatches
With wavering screws

And the waters drip
And I reach, but i am
fill and brimming
These days
So I miss
You

And the great world spins,
And we dance on
Its latitudes
Shuffling the same

Sunrise, sunset, the fiends
of the mind, chasey games and straining round again
The mind trips.
But the ground won't give
Beneath my skin it's stillness
holds me in
And lets me up

And the axis tilts again.

Photo by Emma Trevisan via Unsplash.