Seasoned Sailors Know Navigation Skills Follow Rough Seas

He made you see stars
but not like you thought.
No bluebirds circling,
no Snow White dress,
just a heavy hand,
you flat on your
back.

So good on paper,
so good, you ignored
small signs, subtle
flags flapping distress.
Temper flares & driving too
fast. Later, everyone
asks why you didn’t
see ripples below the surface.
Were you blind,
desperate, dumb,
or just
asking for it?

But you aren’t a ship;
no lighthouses blink
and strobe to warn
of hidden rocks
that rip or shoals
that strand, the
shoreline in sight
yet so unreachable.

Years will pass but
when you choose again,
you’ll shun sneaker
waves, rogues. You’ll
raise your hands not
because you’re
drowning
but stretching for
the sky.

Peggy Hammond’s poems can be found in several journals, including Rogue Agent, Cordella, Adelaide Literary Magazine, The Sandy River Review, Panygyrus, The Comstock Review, Fragmented Voices, Skylight 47, and elsewhere. Her chapbook The Fifth House Tilts is due out fall 2022 (Kelsay Books), and her play A Little Bit of Destiny was produced by OdysseyStage Theatre in Durham, North Carolina. Follow her on Twitter: @PHammondPoetry