The endless ocean isn’t endless and the little deaths all add up. Sometimes we find the sweet spot, but we’re not allowed to linger. Sometimes the poet leads us there. We wake and break the seal, gathering treasure, sand through our fingers. The question isn’t, ‘why have some gone mad?’ but ‘why do so many stay sane?’ It’s the stories we share. And the meds. Definitely the meds.
(The August Poetry Postcard Project was initiated by Paul Nelson of Seattle, WA. It challenges poets to write a poem a day in one go with no revisions on a postcard. Afterwards, the postcard is mailed to other participants. This is my second year and I had fun making friends along the way. I will be sharing the postcards here, most of which are printed with my photos.)