Crapshoot

Just over the ridge is the ocean.
Barren as the trees as February breaks,
hard as ice, hard as the world that has worked so hard
to break me, and yet, somehow, has not.

I stand at a distance. Unsure whether I should
take a photograph to commemorate the feelings
cold weather brings on, or simply allow myself
to feel without thinking.

I am not certain which to trust some days,
emotion or mind. Both have served me well
and poorly at times, like a crapshoot
in a back alley.

About this poem.

Pretty easy to figure this one out. Autobiographical. Battles between mind and heart. I am not a gambler, but at times I feel like one. It is not a comfortable emotional life, but it is never boring.

The picture was taken in Kennebunkport, Maine. About this time of year.

Tom