• These side rails of cedar
    Were formed too long ago,
    They now splinter in inconceivable directions
    Creaking with the gentlest of touch.

    Yesterday,
    I had to toss my best friend overboard
    Not for mutiny, or, suspicion of such, but
    Because I had to save him.

    It deceives us;
    On the open sea it chooses its shape.
    But all I see is water.

    Tomorrow,
    They’re throwing me overboard.