MY FEAR

My fear of him

comes back in waves.

Most of the time

I play in the water,

a free soul strolling on the sand,

a rational mind writing

poems of the sea.

But a sudden fishy smell

will bring the wave of threat

rolling in,

bring the foam of misuse

straight at me.

Dream waves in the heart

are like

water in the lungs.

12-10-04 pcraig