POEM: Travel by Undertow

Welcome to the undertow!
There’re eight ways to freedom,
but only one that you can go.

It’s down, down — while spinning ’round,
feeling the stretch in the struggle,
though hearing not the slightest sound.

No gasping. No gushing. Just blood rushing
to the fear center of the brain
as water’s weight feels more crushing.

Surely, you’ll surface in due time
though, maybe, miles-and-miles away.
They’ll tag you: “Victim, sans a crime,”
and go on about the live-long day.

1 thought on “POEM: Travel by Undertow

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.