deepundergroundpoetry.com

Dark Blue

At a steep angle
The bottle does glug � �
The glass fills fast � �
With awe I gasp � �
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Stops my worries in their tracks � �
A salt line to a slug... � �
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A taste of freedom � �
Down my throat � �
Worries jettisoned � �
My sacred medicine � �
� � �
Temporary isolation � �
Just a tidal moat... � �
� � �
Why are we here? � �
I don't remember � �
The summer gives way � �
To the misty mornings of September � �
� � �
Early dementia � �
Who are you? � �
At depth I yearn � �
For bioluminescent blue � �
� � �
You feel the dark cold?? � �
I feel it too