Lost

Floating for years on the bobbing waves,
trailing my fingers in the swirling eddies,
I've only known the bone dry driftwood
lashed beneath me - white, hot, hard.

Lying under the blue dome of mem'ry
The bright sunshine wipes clean any
Pain from past days, other lives, old friends
There is only the breeze and smiling clouds.

Only a scent on the air, full of promise
Or a squawking bird, giving a tease
That I may slake my empty longing
On a wet, sandy beach - with shade and drinking.

But I float on, trailing my fingers
Heartened by the smile in the vapors,
Those wispy, gleaming teeth above
Promising yet another day of only love.