Drift Wood

Anyone else besides me been known to write on napkins, java jackets, paper bags or other?

Recently Paper Bag Writers featured Drift Wood, a piece I wrote. Find the brown paper bag version at Paper Bag Writers.

Drift Wood

Look east from Lummi Island.

The seldom seen side of

Mount Baker winks white.

Look down.

Two feet cluthch the rocky shore.

Look to the pile of wood

cast beside you.

Find yourself

In the driftwood

torn from the land

you once called home.

For some time you rode and teased

the incoming, outgoing, high

low tides.

Standing upright on the earth

You, securely planted,

defied the waves

…almost.

The Great Water of Life

took you

against your will.

swept you

tossed you

washed you

onto shores you

never

imagined.

Cold and alone

you shivered.

Mother Water pulled you

into her arms

softened your protective bark,

washed away your rough shell,

caressed your smooth skin,

tossed you onto Lummi Island,

left you

without a net

in a pile

with others.
You are driftwood

no longer floating on salty waters

drowning in salty tears.

You have been cast ashore.

Bare, naked

You will begin anew.

Forget all that has come before.

Your loveliness is in your unpretentious

presence.

Some will want to take you home

place you on a shelf, in a box, on a mantel.

It will not matter.

All eight inches

content

to have landed

in unknown foreign

territory

are

light.