drift

a wave split the hull
timbers fell apart
nails scattered into sand

the sea gathered the pieces
wore them smooth
returned them as driftwood

i lashed them into a raft
that floats but will not sail

marked repaired
declared secure
yet water threads the seams
the tide moves through me

i do not ask for mending
leave me open
let the moon breathe
through bone
as the sea
pulls me out




- Michael J. Kolb 

Michael J. Kolb is an archaeologist and poet from Colorado. His work explores nature, memory, and illness, asking what we carry and what we leave behind. Poems appear in Third Wednesday, Sky Island Journal, Eunoia Review, San Antonio Review, Speckled Trout Review, Moss Piglet, and others.