Lost At Sea (A Free Verse Thing)

Of course, going through what I've been going through after the divorce, my thoughts have turned periodically to the process we all experience of people coming into and then exiting our lives. Alongside that (or, as a result), digging through old journals is a hobby one tends to cultivate anytime cataclysmic change takes place.

I wrote something sort of like what you're about to read years ago, about someone else close to me in my life that disappeared. I thought it was relevant and not terribly written, so I dusted it off and cleaned it up a bit. I hope it doesn't suck. This process of branching out and exploring the verse / poetry / prose part of ne has been really rewarding.

I think this is something we can all relate to. Watching someone you know become someone you knew isn't exactly a unique experience. Just ask Gotye.


For so long, we sailed this river together. And then one day, she jumped overboard.

I nearly broke my ribs slamming against the side of the boat to grab her hand and save her. The look in her eyes when I grabbed her hand was alien; frightened and yet determined. She leapt. I wanted to believe it was an accident... But she leapt.

I am holding on, I won't let you go! I struggle so hard... The sweat pouring down our arms from the strain of effort makes it impossible to maintain our grip, and slowly clasped hands slip into interlaced fingers... I make a last ditch effort to hold on and I grab her index finger. There is but a slight pause where I have her, and then she's released. As strong as I am, I can't lift someone who doesn't want to be lifted.

I drift down the river, ever forward. I yell, "I see you! I won't let you go! I'll come back for you!" of course knowing the river only moves forward, and I'll never be able to paddle hard enough to fight the current taking me away.

Her colors begin to wash grey as the mist of the rapids kick up.

She's a stick figure waving goodbye in the distance.

She's a shape in the white water.

She's gone.

Sail on.