Adrift is my soul,
no bearings,
no steady hand from the soul’s knowing, only air

Vertigo spinning out of control,
all one can do is cling to a chair rail

Damp white knuckled nose dive,
pull up, pull up

a pocket of unknown turbulence,
let go…

No choice but to go it alone but, I have the trees and they have me.

Beautiful words won’t change a damn thing.

It is in a dark crevice where scorpion and snake rest waiting to strike,
a flood wrecked bar bloodied with mud debris, as I search for treasure

a blind reach into blackness pulling out a shot glass brimming
with murky pain

Yet, another miracle, no deadly bite.

Can there be hope in a shot glass that once held tequila,

two women saluting to one another’s good graces.

Why not, it is still here, the invisible imprint of what the space once held,
a lingering of what has been lived.

Not even the flood of halloween can erase the love shared here.

I am adrift in unknown air, clenching the shot glass, remembering

I always recover.

~Andrea Willets

For Beverly & Billy Ray, Eye of the Dog Art Center