In Memory, a Castaway

& in this endless ocean where the scattered bits and pieces of myself that fell apart, come back together, on each crash and fall of tide

adrift

& I ride back along the rolling current to the whitest break of foam

& wash up on a shore unknown— or half-remembered: empty beaches, clean white sand

& I (re)form myself anew, again,

adrift & you will find me at the foaming mouths of rivers where the sea began

& ask me where began the sea or else the cycle

& it starts with me, again. A dead man’s float in primordial waters. I myself, the endless

drifter.

| Carolyn Klein