"The Sea Never Drowns"
Clouds in the sky don’t know that they’re clouds.
Stones in the path go wherever they’re kicked.
I don’t expect to win prizes for being myself.
The traffic driving home sounds like the traffic
heading out, and the chimney smoke’s
pale waterfall flows upward without fear.
Sometimes a rusted bolt blurts out the truth
and tells us we have work we don’t know about.
We get paid every time we take a breath.
There is a strange sorrow stuck in us like a house
unable to pass through its own door.
Although it can’t swim, the sea never drowns.
I like hearing noisy trucks celebrate
the uneven road but I also enjoy,
when the traffic has gone,
the sound of the road on its own.