Floating. Just floating. Trusting yourself. Toes up. Palms up. Calm yourself. Slow your breathing. Don’t tip. Not like the other men (and Rembrandt) in the boat. At first, facing the horizon with eyes to the waves. Ears above the water. Children chirping. Seabirds begging. Ears below the water. A quiet current… and your thoughts. Then face to the shore, trusting yourself to the old gods and the new and the- A game of chicken waiting for the world to carry you… lift you… direct you. Will the wave break on your head? tumbledownandaround swirlingandchurning gaspandincomesthewater. Or not? Maybe tomorrow really is just an excuse up up and away but I sure as hell ain’t no Superman. Fish flying and birds diving. All it takes to get from here to tomorrow is a lifetime. Almost to the shore… Almost there… Almost…
Wherever there is.
Phillip Gillis is a teacher, writer, wanderer, semi-retired professional wrestler, and father of two beautiful children. He is also a proud native of Allensville, N.C. and grew up in a hardware store, C&G Supply Center.