God have mercy on the mariner

White line, white line, white line marking the

passage of time –

and space. Going and coming, a black tar road under a

setting – no – rising sun.

Wrinkled eyes grow small,

and I protect her every part of her

as we go. No – as we come.

God have mercy on the confused souls.

Soft grass, a coiled black snake,

headlights illuminating oak guarding black tar

water. And a stereo – the only light of the dark inside

"where we say all the secrets we hide".

His hand on my back, marking the

passage of time –

and space. God have mercy on the ones we couldn’t save.

Fingers clasping my hands

pulling my arms overhead,

A leg hooked over mine and the power

of a ball shooting downfield.

Two pinkies raised, and we chuckle in the stands

until a gasp, a red card. Time moved too fast for -

a swell of pride. He reels in pain.

I missed if he was coming or going.

God have mercy on the fallen - and the ones who felled.

Short skirt, balmy heat, the smell of piss on

Bourbon Street. Streetlights illuminating the concrete

pavement and suddenly I must –

feet hitting pavement hard and fast,

surprised by my own speed.

A spilled curl, eyes as blue as the ocean

deep rotted wood slipping up my soft thigh before

a quick scan of blonde and brunette –

God have mercy on the lost.

Marley sits cross-legged in the hollowed-out trunk

And I don't need to scan an ocean for there is

a light chuckle, a dumb joke

I move next to him as we make our way up the hill.

I need the extra strength today to come. To go.

God have mercy on the tired souls.

God have mercy on us all.

This poem is inspired by a line from "All the Kings Men" by Robert Penn Warren. He discusses Highway 58, a road I know well. It reminded me of all the time I spent on a similar road, going and coming. This poem captures some of the thoughts that took up space in my life at that time. I also payed homage to one of my favorite songs during this period - "Shine" by Over It.