Sunday, January 21, 2007

Surfing

I tempt myself
And pace the back door
Ready to leave.
My beer times me like an hourglass
And I am stuck in place.
The two dogs
Who play and wrestle
Guard my path to the sink,
While my father works and whistles on his skis.
Safely imprisoned
I think of a way out.
Then I saw it,
My escape,
Softly floating away from me.

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