There is a place that I know,
where the moon tilts
off the water,
like a saucer
of milk,
in the inky dark.
It is there that I come,
to hold myself still,
and run my thoughtless hands
through troubled currents,
of remembrance.
And it is there,
in the silky depths,
I feel my feet,
sink in the silt,
searching for the echo
of myself.
STK