The tide is turning
and in the draw
the green frothy murk
of the undertow.
I see the flotsam of his needs
scattered,
the sad rotting angels swirling,
the helpmeet dying,
the precious words decaying –
what am I saying?!
It’s pulling –
the setting sun
and dragging love
backwards down.
I’m finding
my warped and silty dreams
not drowned.
This mess
this murkiness
dark becomes clear
I know but I fight, there’s nothing
for me here.
I call the lifeguard
down her ladder climbs
her red and white
help
a clap on my heart
a blow to my head.
The desire
and fervour
washed away far.
The sinking dreams
the dithering star.
And I’m not blaming –
there’s no moon now.
And the water
swirls round
in the undertow.
Dr. Hurley's Snake-Oil Cure 
Dale Williams
/ April 6, 2011Sandy, thank you. You have captured my deepest feelings especially with regard to hope and love. The concept elicits both in me and the subtle development of maturity. I’m such a fan!