March 2022 – Miriam E. Miles

Anchor

My boat sits atop the ocean, the sky, and waves indistinguishable in the dead of night. I sense the wave coming and brace

jeering a grin water-coloured crystal shimmer spindle-esqe discs spin

Scattered they are strewn confetti pieces of fragments

We must reflect on what has come before, what is now, and what may be. If we do not,

I have become quite uncomfortable with the level of humility God seems to want me to experience.