I let go my moorings tonight,
untethered myself to what may come,
green springs on quiet islands
or storms that tear the sails away
like witches at sacrifice.
I lifted the anchor of this port,
the streets of homes with golden windows,
and sweet smoke rising heavenward.
I unbound the line of regret
from the bollard of the past,
all of this in the middle of a thick fog,
which I hadn't seen until I began to let go.
To my surprise, I was more set and stable,
sure and true as the dog star in a sextant,
and filled to brimming with the thirst for salt.
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