The Poetry of
Jack Scott

My End is Sinking

My end is sinking
from my weight of grief
occasioned by your jumping ship.

I thought I was
your life preserver
should our canoe be lost to both.

I might want to buoy
your abandoned end of boat,
but despair is stony ballast to that hope.

There are no leaks;
sinking comes
from weight of sadness.

The flood is swiftly rising
I’ll soon join you in the sea
that you preferred to me.

I could weep enough
to drown us both,
I’m sad enough to let it,

but I hope you have the will
to float or swim on
to where you’d rather be.

I wish you well
at least well enough
to reach the comfort of a shore.


579 ®Copyright 1997 Jack Scott. All rights reserved.