Another sunset floods the bay
you climb in again, go under
not to surface until the light
lose yourself in the fine blue night
you climb in a glass, gone again
underwater for that deeper dive
lost once more in the fine blue night
floating away on a sweeping tide
under the water in deeper dives
face to face with hideous shapes
you float away on a weepy tide
of horror, sadness, regret in waves.
Facing the surface in hideous shape
you make a sunrise pact again
no more horror, sadness, regret
as waves of promise buoy you up.
Day drifts past in mindless ways
another sunset floods the bay
sun sinks slow, you sink fast
not to surface until the light.
Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan hides out in the lush ruins of South Florida. She writes pulp fiction, literary crime, and psychological thrillers. Her poetry has been called visceral, raw, and fearless. Corrigan has published poems in literary journals, chapbooks, and collections.
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