Waves

 

Look at all these words,

crashing like ocean swells,

against the beaches and

breakwaters, foaming

over one another in

huge tidal waves of

verbosity.

 

My boat is being battered,

by the words bashing against

the fragile hull, I’m getting

seasick from the rolling torrents.

The horizon invisible,

against the words cresting

high into the sky.

 

If I could just reach out

with my net and capture

all the right words, all the

right combinations of phrases,

to clearly express all the thoughts

running though my seasick brain,

and paste them to this page.

 

Tuna.

Fish.

Sandwich.

with,

chips.

And a

pickle.

 

The words swirled around

the boat, and I laughed,

because of the chill that ran

down my spine.

Maybe I need to be on land,

for more land-based words.

 

Heading to shore,

to reap from fields

of words.

If I can find them.