Stranded

 July 17th 2015 

A small boat floats out in the middle of the wide river and i sympathize, almost lost in the haze this season brings, an Early morning mist that does nothing to lift the anguish we feel here, alone, rising to the tides and the rising heat we have no way to relieve, less self-satisfaction than the need for peace, alone on a river the leaves us stranded with no way to reach either shore, gripping my paddle with which I stroke slowly, making little progress yet to do something to erase this is better than doing nothing at all, wishing to be stranded with you, when this is not possible, perhaps never was, the mist, dreamlike in the nightmare, more like night sweats as I grip the oar and paddle my way, hoping to reach any shore at all