The Last Sail
Setting different courses on the compass rose.
Bright sun, kiss of salt
Cold water through my fingers
Miss the tillerman.
About the Creator
Kathryn Carson
I have MS, Hashimoto's, and a black belt in taekwondo. I'm also an ocular melanoma survivor. This explains why my writing might be kind of obsessed with apocalypse--societal, religious, and personal.
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Map of My World
It’s the nausea that grips me. The blood on the floor when I’m not supposed to be bleeding. The glistening pomegranate seed that’s supposed to be “tissue” and instead is recognizably an arm, the fingers not yet more than a paddle. I wasn’t even trying to get pregnant, but I am undone by the loss. There’s a word in Welsh, hiraeth, that means a yearning for a place to which you cannot return, or perhaps never was.
By Kathryn Carson3 years ago in Poets
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