The Final Coastline
(After the image “Lighthouse at the Edge of the World” by G.G. Silverman)
Answers must be there. Somewhere.
Weathered. Wary. With insight
of pleasure endured, agony relished.
But life feels like a stranger’s memory,
a blurry-eyed drunk stumbling home
from neighborhood bar, days’s color
draining away into evening.
Gray storm clouds – job gone sour,
lover’s betrayal, an unexpected death –
prowl every perimeter, threaten
to cull vulnerable youthful hopes
not yet capsized in rough waters.
No beacon powerful enough
to navigate abandoned dreams.
I rub my eyes, pull jacket snug,
unsure if I’m still sheltered on solid earth
or about to be swept overboard, remains
dashed against shore’s jagged cliff.
©2023 Kenneth W. Arthur
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