Paths Diverging

Day 5 of Writing Poetry Until I Feel Better - Saturday, September 13

branches

grow around sorrow

the ache of letting her go

I pick small buds

and toss them

into the sea

she lay here a long time ago

warming her cold hands on

the rocks

basking in the sun

desperate for a path

a sign

ours have diverged

mine––is covered in sand

and seashells

whisking into the current

drowning and breathing

drowning

breathing

drowning

mine––is covered in rosehips

and sea-stained logs

bits of dried kelp

clinging to the shore

mine––is waterlogged

salty dry

baking, melting

slowly creeping away

as the tide nears

then pulls

mine is a sadness

a bite

when I sink my feet under

the Atlantic

after a while

it numbs

then

all I can feel

is the sun

cradling