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.