hpoetry

My Raft

I gathered sticks and string, 

tied new knots and tightened 

well; loose ends can raise a 

tragic demise in the 

water if you don’t take 

care. I picked up every 

thing I needed from the 

woods, most of it I found 

on the forest floor or

beneath the twine that lay 

by the roots of each tree, 

and built myself a raft. 

 

I took to the water, 

raft in hand, holding it 

carefully for fear of 

breaking such a fragile 

thing. I didn’t want to 

have to let go, I was 

reluctant to put it 

in the water, to lose 

it; I loved it and I 

almost went home. But I 

stayed, sat by the water, 

and let go of my raft. 

 

Floating on a placid 

lake, my raft looked strong, bold, 

majestic. Swan under 

sun. I pushed it further 

out, almost out of reach, 

an arms’ length away. I 

wanted to pull it back, 

to keep it close but I 

was brave and jumped on, held 

on for the life of me 

and it. I sat, paddled, 

and floated away on my raft. 

 

 

A million planets 

above me, countless and 

pure. I would never know

what is up there. Next to 

me, a rocky cliff face 

and ghosts calling for me 

to see them. So as they 

ordered, I opened my 

eyes wide and saw it all. 

I was blind and crashed, broke. 

My raft was in pieces, 

collapsed, you beside me, 

 

and I fell.