I am driftwood,
no good
bush-fire carnage
or campfire soot
broken from a bough
or iceberg wreckage
without anker and root,
torn from ship and soil my
drifting streams my
splintered dreams my
incomplete carvings my
Carpenter sundered and now
floating in those hurried currents
aimless
faithless
weightless
because I'm hollow
and sun scorched
personified sorrow
this moon bare
this who-would-care
this way broken
today and tomorrow
no good,
I am driftwood
-MM
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