Adrift at Sea

So often the metaphor is conveyed of the ships passing in the night
by writers who mime
the originator of the famous line.
But ships are too big
and impersonal for me,
when invoking that simile.
I prefer the image of an open boat, suitable for one.
Drifting with the currents, like Hemmingway’s old hero.
But we are not alone
unless we want to be.
We are in a sea full of such boats and,
From time to time,
As the currents may allow,
We pass by; two sailors on our separate courses.
Sometimes through boldness, fear, or loneliness,
We stretch our arms over the gunnels of self-only awareness.
And hold our hands out
over the lapping waters that threaten
to swamp us.
All too often the other
lets this moment pass by,
And we only catch a fleeting glimpse
of the other’s eye.
I fear this is the fate of you and I,
Best to let our boats stay dry;
And we resign ourselves to no goodbye.
Because we never let finger tips touch
long enough to evoke a cry.