At the Floodmark
Right on the line between flood and damp sand
you move slowly, with swirling wind entwined,
not knowing what to choose for, to which end
you should go and seek the kind peace of mind.
Your thinking seems like a sea, it won’t find
tranquility, just rolling back and forth
from bits of hope to waves of weary chords
that counteract. As long as this sea goes,
you see no way to proceed, only the wards
between what comes and the tracks of old blows.
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"At the Floodmark" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2025. Web. 5 Feb. 2025. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/99251/at-the-floodmark>.
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