Second Act

a new poem

Second Act 

It was such a strange life.
Someone sent me a photo of the sky
while I was under the sky. 
There was a morning so early, 
I walked through the dark
thinking to change everything
including the dark 
(or my place next to it).
Whatever I felt was mine 
I lost by midday. 
The lake was colder
than anyone threatened. 
I waited too long. 
I stepped through the gates 
of the church like an infant
at dusk. What did I know?
Nothing but how to turn 
tragedy into comedy. 
Little but how to swallow 
and keep my eyes open
as the flood took our bodies 
into the blue, over the years,
which have been almost useful. 

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