Past, Future, Present

A rickety boat bearing a man
Wallows on the waves of his past.
Spray rises, slaps his face
with stinging droplets.

Oppressive air, weighing down
Dries his wet cheeks
Leaving naught but salt traces
to mingle with his tears.

Jump Overboard? Drown in the Chop?
Instead he clings precariously to
The splintered boards of his present
as the waves keep slapping the boat.

Sprout wings? Fly off into the future
Leaving behind the waves and the pain?
Invisible, heavy columns of air and nature
keep him solidly rooted between past and future.

So he sits in the pilot seat
Glumly steering his path
Through the chop and the wash
hoping for a becalmed place.