Through Tess at Magpie Tales, image by Mostafa Habibi
I write this poem for this week's Magpie Tales
For Magpie Tales #95 *click here*
The abandoned boat resting
on the verge of things caught me
and I am amazed
that this beach ate me
alive like a crab fearing
the coming noontide
crowds, the gulls intent
on piercing my soft salt shell.
I need your help now.
I can't dig me out
alone at this point. Please come,
or my eyes will be plucked out.
written December 11, 2011 8:42 AM
The crab is the sign Cancer becomes cancer and the tide rising is a foretelling and so astrology becomes the abandoned boat and illness is me buried in the sand on the shore of mortality. Finally, cancer becomes a broken heart. That is the poet path, where the muse led me on this one.
By the way, I suffer the broken heart, not the cancer.
My call holds, for it is universal,
"Please come, or my eyes will be plucked out!"