There is no ocean to be seen
no wind caresses my skin
no moon to guide the tides
no constant ebb and flow
and yet I feel the rising chaos
sense the disturbance at my core
an endless pattern of repetition
a transverse wave of crests and troughs
a familiar cycle of undulation
where the depths are deeper
than the highest wave
and drifting into the shallows
again I am as one with the sea
as together we break apart
pieces of me drifting away
as I drown a little more
in each passing day
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 