Open Horizon

Hi,

I hope all is progressing well.

I’m resting on my bed. I’ve come home from the beach. I think of Friday and Saturday as I lay thinking intently at the screen. I twitter, Birds twitter, I tire, Turning pages from morning, I shift, twist, and turn, Trying to find comfort, I lay in heat, My clothes drenching in barely forming sweat beads, I drink semi-cool water from a water bottle, I leave it half-full, I embrace time alone though I enjoy time with a friend or more, Out from my heap of sheets into the cool night’s breeze to stare at the moon reflecting the sun’s glow-low though with its face visible, I type in the dark with the car windows slightly down, A Lightning Bug flutters about the interior, I ponder life’s varying breaths, Varying breaths of lives, How long will anyone be here? Beyond the temporary self— I wake with a heaviness in my eyes and head, Brother and mother walk through my room again, After a few hours asleep—the morning heat, I’m going to the ocean, I’m going to the ocean, I’m going to the ocean, I gaze across the horizon, Swimming towards a promising glow, I flow with salty water, A constant cleansing of my soul, I can see my hands, The water is clear-blue in the distance, Greener near the shore, I contemplate drowning, Returning to shore for a third time I don’t find any grounding, I attempt to swim to the shore so near, Pulling my surfboard dragging in my rear, Recovering a breath, I heave myself onto my surfboard then reach the shore paddling from there, As much as I feel welcome, I don’t know if I belong here now, How much can one sustain with only so much? Where will I go? My eyes and head are heavy, The horizon glows.

Onward and Upward,

Kevin Dufresne