Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Your Poem, My Boat


Your poem is a message in a bottle.
My boat is besieged by many clanking necks.
I ready my net; reach out; miss;
Fall in.

13 comments:

erin said...

that's ok. with so many bottlesl, who needs a boat?

xo
erin

rahina q.h. said...

nice:)
if you can't beat them....then...

Wine and Words said...

bottom up
one
and another
with salt sea chaser
drunk on that
which never could be captured
fully

Theanne and Baron said...

Drowning in your words,
Unheard, unseen, unfelt!

William Michaelian said...

Erin: Maybe those who can’t swim. To every word, there are countless lives attached.

Rahina: In other words, I’m all wet.

Annie: You’re right. The seine on the Seine goes mainly down the drain.

Theanne: And in yours, a timely length of rope.

Old 333 said...

Carry the bottles down with you as you go; there's a breath or two in each one.

William Michaelian said...

Peter, I must say, your comment is hard to swallow.

Nazia Mallick said...

Maybe, the bottle will swim to you.

William Michaelian said...

Hello, Nazia. A full-throttle bottle with fins....

Nazia Mallick said...

Mmmm...I know you are dreaming of mermaids!

William Michaelian said...

The plot thickens.

erin said...

two years ago at the public beach a man overheard my son and i. i was explaining to my son why he could not float. the man interupted and said, i'm sorry to intrude, but everyone can float. i have been a swimming instructor all my life. it is all in trusting/believing the fact that we can all float. i'll be darned. he was right. he taught my son to trust/belief and then he taught my son to float.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

Beautiful. And I dare say he taught you something too, life being the ocean that it is.