Shipwrecked

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. 

tk/March 2013

Many thanks to the talented R.A.D. Stainforth for reading my poem.

Image by TheFoxAndTheRaven 

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