Forgive Me

Humbled again,

by my body’s reaction

to things I can’t see,

that make me stop,

pay attention,

in ways not always,

pleasant or wanted.


And so I try,

to listen, 

to hear you,

and in sickness,

or in health,

offer up,


for I have taken you,

so far from home:

aboard boats,

fishing frigid seas;

onto city streets,

full of alcohol-exploding blood;

and almost into thin air,

again and again.


And so,

when you cry out,



with open-throated wails,

dear body,

I will hold on,

and hold you,

as we

make our way,

back home.



Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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