Bottle



   Another dream. This time I'm on an island in the middle of one of those oceans. I'm not hungry, I'm not cold or hot, I'm not anything but alone. I'm sitting in the white and yellow sand, my back against this palm tree. The sky is the same blue as the water that surrounds the island. I listen to the waves come and go. Quiet. Calm. Then this green glass bottle washes up on the beach. From where I sit I see a note inside. I get up and go to where the bottle lies in the wet sand. I pick it up, remove the cork and pull out the paper. As I unroll the note my heart begins to beat, to race. And there on the paper I read the words "I miss you."

 

 

[next poem]

 

 

Return to selections from i through x