Release

So sleep, lose your eyes, let loose your mind.
The anchor on the day is pulled up, and the gray boat
shifts and bobs, glides and floats. It can't even feel
the waves of bosses and bills and the city,
talking, demanding, placing themselves
in your face,
pushing hard to see if they can
work another wrinkle into that rippled forehead.
All the boat knows is: adventure!
It smells the sea and tastes the salt.
It doesn't care about tides,
currents and eddies. All it wants.
all it sees, is the open air, a void,
and its best guess that all that nothingness really is eternity.

© Matthew Quint - March '01