Inspired by the wisdom
of the horizon, I champion
the sun, the rising tide.

I kneel inside a catboat
and catch honey dripping
from the pier on my tongue.

Knock by knock I alert
all the wayward sailors
to the process of memory.

I block the channel where
they swirl in a whirlpool.
When despair arises, I commit

to humming softly at year’s end,
humming alone in the morning
when no one is watching.

Comes a silence then, a reckoning
whereby the night’s steady thrum
nourishes me with its delirium.