okay this is really like i’m 13 or 14 years old but hey…*shrugs* i’m not a master of letters by any means and you already know i’m a sap. (do these constant apologies get tiring?? hmm…perhaps i’ll buck up and stop)
click “keep reading” or title above to read #4 please
Is everything ruined in the icebergs?
Must I hide all day to stay happy?
Do you young wishes that outgrow my arms
hook my brain strong to the wrong chains and teeth?
Take off, proud birds, in the darkest direction
loving anything not built for me.
We migrate so far for so little
when nature bends coordinates in knots.
Flying over, over, same open water–
Where is my island, my island?
The hands in my chest are sure of the spot,
pushed me there with a folded roar–
Here is my island, my island?
It’s outline drawn when I was born
The moment I saw it I knew I’d found
All I wanted.
It was sitting, large, across the sea
And I could feel it thinking, like me
Writing its thoughts in a bright blinking book.
I landed my hands on its knees and asked
“How are you?” my island, my magnet’s home,
“Darling” it said, and clicked the book shut,
“You wouldn’t want to know!”