Message in a Bottle
It floats up onto the shell beach
next to the pink flamingo.
The bird steps aside as I walk
towards it. The bottle is blue, smells of brine
and has a cork stuffed into the top
The glass is dull from salt and sun
the foamy froth of whales and shark
playing with their foreign object.
The constant deep has leaked in.
Black ink bleeds between the lines
row upon row
staining the curled parchment.
the hair on the back of my neck
raised and moist
as I find a flat rock to sit on
extract the note, decipher the smudges.
He has pledged to wait through oceans of time,
even as I voyage through this plague without him,
anxious to preserve
the color of former youth
flatten despair, fashion hope.
And now on the moon and tides
to return my response,
trust the wild sea conveys the wistful pearl.
Cornelia DeDona 11-29-20
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