Masafuera: Farther Away
At 38 I let go,
allowed myself to drift away
from comforting familiar reflections
in a shark infested, increasingly murky sea.
After almost a decade adrift
I have at last spied a shoreline,
a rocky outcrop, a Crusoe sanctuary
where I am hidden from all whom dared try follow.
And I am farther away as well
from the desperate impression of a life,
a landmass of secure, safe, but sullen connection,
an impermanent Pangaea of shifting, separating emotions.