Early chill, morning
meets the sun
along the shoreline,

tranquility, uncertainty.

Another day, questioning
how or if
I belong, and where?

Anxiety. Floating free.

If it’s here,
may the hours and days
bring about warm relief.

Wondering. Mortality.

And if it’s here, let the
fog be lifted, so I can see
what’s become of me.

Reality. Identity.

If. It’s here.

05/16/2017                    j.g. lewis