12/5, midnight.

I am in a place
where the sky and sea,
where tankers and islands,
tell naught apart;
darkness swallows them whole,
and light dances with no aim.

I vaguely catch my reflection,
but lost to a white speck
that periodically flickers
on the wing of the beast;
soaring with quotidian confidence,
I muse in marvelous wonder.

In this tiny window,
caught between a rude snort
and my subconscious mind,
I am grateful, relishing this;
this moment, and every other
even - a liberating gratitude.

-