I am young again
Often while dreaming
As mom stays close
Where the waves break,

Standing on docks
Near our shoreline,

Watching steamships
Sink off that coast.

Somehow those boats
Aren’t vessels,

But harbingers
Speaking of sadness,

Now what’s to come
After sleeping
When adulthood
Wakes me once more –

And yet
We’re back every night
Still atop old piers
Over darkness,

Watching bows submerge
Underwater,

Soon tearing apart
While they drown.

Just imagine
A life after death
Left blackest
Beneath every ocean,

Seeing such depths
All around you,
Though eternally
Needing escape.

Waking up
Feels fairly absurd,

Damned with faith
Facing morning,

Like wreckage
Assuming salvation –

At least in hell
There is light.

• J. Pigno