Followers

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

The Tilting





The windows become the floor             the door the ceiling—           
            in life jackets                 we rise to the top

like a hatch now             we climb through it—            
            waddle down the wall                         of the hallway

toward             what light remains : the water                         ever
            our only light                         only hope by the stairs

cascading—             how many times have we tilted                       
            from our most fervent                         intentions?