when one considers the word
what comes to mind?
a raft lost on open waters
undulating and salt-sick,
the gentle unmooring of
a lonely soul,
searching for scraps of
hope – a compass needle,
a tattered map,
whispered voices
begging for nightfall,
thank polaris!
we shout, assuming above all
that anyone presumed lost
begs to be found

by Melissa Kro.

via Daily Prompt: Adrift