Poem by R.M. Dolin, May 5, 2025, Read Other Poems
At least for now,
my soul's a sailor,
a heart devoid of harbor
wandering whimsically on
the leeward side of solitude
with no one other me
to lace my mind with worry.
There's a suddenness in goodbye
making the next start over
a friendless foe to fate.
Something you refuse to understand
any more me saying,
I can't give what I haven't got.
You may not yet be gone
but were always moving on,
like reflections on stillness
or tidal waves in moonlight,
a fallow fantasy your heart
has always known,
is not a sacred harbor for your soul.
From the R.M. Dolin novel, “An Unstainable Life.” Issac struggles to make sense of the random poems and idioms Darwin sprinkles throughout his journals. In this poem, Darwin starts out as the adventuring master of his destiny while admitting he has nothing to offer anyone. In the last stanza, he reveals his insecurity. Issac has yet to learn who it is Darwin pines for.
Written after chatting with a retired Coast Guard sailor about the dichotomy between fate and destiny . . . one of the benefits of being a bartender.
