March 25 Elizabeth Austen: Ebbing Hour

Been a little sleepy lately, so I’ve fallen behind on my posts. I thought this poem kind of perfectly encapsulated what I’ve been going through (okay, sort of perfectly – let’s just say the tide has caught me in her swell and I have been overcome by her).

Ebbing Hour

by Elizabeth Austen

Don’t offer opiates.
Lay me naked in earth’s
liquid lap. Oh
lay me in the ocean’s hammock
still awake enough
to know myself her own.
Feet on her salt pillow,
hands at last with nothing
to grasp. For once I’ll
face unblunted
an event’s full force.
I don’t want to miss
the last impoartant thing
I’ll ever do. Let those
friends who remain
wade out with me
beyond the breakers and push.
I want to ride the swell.

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About penneloppe

I like to write horror, dark fantasy and crime fiction. Sometimes, I'll write science fiction, but usually I like to write science fact. I also write screenplays and stage plays. My day job is office work. I live in Seattle and I have a cat.
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