Full moon brought troubled waters
dark creatures whirled in the caverns of my soul
wind whipped the boat with confusion until daybreak.
You wanted it all, the pure and the clean
the pivot of my spirit that sings with guardians’ wings.
Out beyond the horseshoe reef,
(which didn’t bring us any luck)
the Atlantic rolls its heavy thunder.
What can I tell you under the three palm trees
where Johnny Depp buried the gold doubloons?
There’s no gold here, only scattered moments
of ‘might have been’
while someone plucks a string to sing a prayer for sleep
& the hungry ghosts chatter.