Surrounded by desert island books
and ever-present scorpions,
I pass coconut time, la la la,
scrubbing the ken of tombstones,
pick at the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Until something pleasant rocks
on the vacant horizon ―
your unexpected boat
floats like the moon in a day-blue sky,
some far-off classical station plays Bach.
You stand as if you know me,
toss a life ring my direction.
I squint, wade out for a better view,
doggy paddle slow at first,
wonder if Picasso had a stomach ache, too.
Sea streams from my nose.
You grab me with gosling hands,
pull me on board ―
feed me minestrone by osmosis,
turn me into a bouquet of roses.
Many thanks to the talented R.A.D. Stainforth for reading my poem.
Image by TheFoxAndTheRaven