If the book leaves you in tears,

consider it a friend.

What can’t salt water wash away?

A central gripping has

kept me off-kilter,

winter storms filling gutters and feeding

blue mold.

In a sense,

nothing is going as planned–

precisely how this melting,

sanding, scuffing and lonesome roll

is meant to go.

As the slow unfurling tightens me into

a speedy withdrawal,

reminders trickle in to soften,

a kitten-stretch of a soft pawed

softening,

when I can.

More friends,

words heaping page upon page,

sit kindly waiting nearby

in a generous pile.