Throwing Anchors

It is not your conventinal anchor, this block of stone
only seen at low tide, a chain embedded in it.
Someone’s, presumably the boat owner’s
intitials roughly cut into the stone,
a mark of ownership.

You have mixed feelings about anchors.
It is good to have a fixed place, a safe harbor
in storms; a spot of certainty when the sea
is anything but.

It is good, but at the same time,
it can hold you in one place when you were made
for something else, to wander, to grow,
to live wonderfully lost, seeking horizons
you cannot see from here.

About this poem

Recently, I have noticed the trauma of past things in my life seem to have less sway on my thoughts, less pull on my emotions. It is a good thing sometimes, to leave your anchors behind.

The picture was taken in Provincetown, Mass.

Tom