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Alisal
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Portola
My trouble is I lack conviction.
Is all of this just my invention?
The gifted, afflicted both drown to meet their fate.
It's likely that the night sea doesn't differentiate.
The night sea, a loved one
The swimmers in the ocean.
The darkness, a titan
A pariah of Poseidon.
My trouble is all of this metaphor adjusts.
Its frightening, enlightening, that the night sea is against us.
The night sea is against us.
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The night sea, the whispers
And all the other drifters.
Are they victims of the sea ice
Or survivors from a past life?
Still a legacy of horrible dreams.
Steady pattern of the unforeseen.
The vestige of three hurricanes,
The whirl of the weathervanes.
It's the ending, the last time,
The swimmers reach the shoreline.
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