Casting Backward

22 Jun


Into this ocean a long line cast,
reeling backward
like the silver bullet spray
from cutting prow
against this heart blue ocean.
Whizzing behind me,
the line.
Not sure how long
before a click
stops it,
tugs it
into the blood and flesh
of my chest.
The wind holds
a bare moment
of bowed line snap.
But the blue knows
when to cut 
this taut twine
to the deep,
into the home of all things lost.

— Written on the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard

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