Living my own life
Standing on the bow of the Queen of Surrey,
Inhaling the shifting grays, blues, and greens of the early fall on Horseshoe Bay,
Sea, sky, mountains, islands, and forest arise.
Struck by the scene, struck by the seam - this my life.
Been treading water
waiting for the epilogue
waiting for the start
waiting opening night
Decades treading water
waiting for the lifting fog
waiting for the rent-to-own
waiting for the cure
Exhausting treading water
waiting for the mystery solved
waiting for the big day
waiting for the muse
someone, someone please press start
Standing on the ferry's bow,
This breath belongs to me.
Not by fluke, not by con, not by deal. It is mine.
Many hands lifted me; many backs I'd climbed, many fields played in my favour.
But one instant is mine. This lifetime mine.
This visage from the ferry, I now know, is my own.
My victories, my joys, my gasp of wonder. Perhaps always, but struck this moment.
Not in spite of my messes but from choices made and steps taken.
Oh yes, regrets as well. I retain them too. Oh, yes.
Utterly unexpected - this moment on water that belongs.
