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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2228603
Man at sea.
Sometimes it’s like
the first time snorkeling,
grasping how some think.
For I am merely man
woeful in my savvy;
I am mere male
in female ocean,
barely buoyant as
dolphins pass nodding
sincere grins, as if
they read my mind,
as if they sense my
mammalian dilemma.
Oft times I thought
the boat moved too fast,
yet I had time to swim,
to gulp fresh air
through narrow pipe,
and reason would achieve
new life like lungs so bathed
by precious air.  Still, time
is consistent, and eight
AM Saturday to Monday
is not three days,
as per her count.
What do I know.
blowing bubbles
with each breath,
evading sharp coral
and manta rays, logic
found at greater depths.
Sometime there was
no time to think
when waves arrived
to toss me so--seeking
to impress, man at sea
yet in my mind I realized
making a splash is
harder than it looks.

40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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