Pardon me, while I pull
The stomach from my throat,
Take a look across the sea
And realize that it’s a moat

That I dug
And I filled
And I fed.

Now I sit upon the shore
Brittle tree among the reeds
And I wonder how I came to this,
Locked in sand up to my knees

I wonder if I’ll grow in this
And I wonder if I’ll leave
And all the while I’m wondering
The winds begin to seize

On joins and bends and brave young growth
And pull it from my form
Cast down across the waters storming
Unceasing til I’m shorn.

I gaze with straining vertebrae
Atlas’ burden at my neck
Upon my whorls and twisted limbs
Interrupted in reflect

As calming winds bolster
Such debris across the moat
I feel unburdened in acknowledging
Only strong wood floats.