Not Quite Unafraid
I do not trust these still seas.
Too often I have seen the smooth water
suddenly boil, captive to angry winds
and storms hidden just over the horizon.
I do not trust these still seas,
but still, I will take my oars and set out,
not quite unafraid, but secure that survival
seems to be in my DNA, and I wear it well,
like a sailor’s tattoo, or bull fighter’s swagger,
each scar a proud testament
to those who have tried to kill me
I do not trust these still seas
About this poem
Things are calm in my life. I like it. I don’t trust it. Yet.
This is not the poem I set out to write. That’s how it works.