With day 1 in the books, we set out on day 2 of this poetic venture. I owe gratitude and obeisance to Matt Averill. I met Matt some years ago while I was succeeding to fail out of Umass Lowell in my Frosh Year (1992-1993 to be precise). Matt, was my good friend Jim Connelly’s roommate. I quickly felt at ease in Matt’s company, and I enjoyed our time together all those years ago. I’m happy we reconnected on Facebook. Matt suggested “archipelago” as a word for this project. A fair reminder that no man is an island, but perhaps one of many islands in a group.

 

Without further ado…

“Archipelago”

We are a chain of islands.

A chain of islands are we.

High and dry.

A compendium of isolation.

Floating transfixed in a turbulent ocean.

Battered back and forth, back and forth.

The coming storm invokes dread and despair.

Yet, we are a chain of islands.

Literally, linked beneath the surface.

Poking up through.

Just above water.

Inundated.

Deluged.

Deluded.

We brood.

On what to do.

The vast ocean taunts our bold emergence.

It sends torrents of briny salt to season us.

Discouragement in clouds and sunsets.

Lightning makes the sky appear glimpsy.

Reaching out beyond our vison.

We are a chain of islands.

A chain of islands are we.

Forever chained to our fate.

Hoping for the surf to move slightly so.

Perhaps, a breaking moment.

A point in which we enjoy some stillness.

Before it all comes crashing down.

Alone together.

Adrift.

At the mercy of what we can’t control.

All we have are the connections beneath us.

Not seen, or apparent,

But, for the unequally exposed sandbars.

The expanse likes to act like we aren’t here.

But, why then, take offense.

Destruction of such a small thing.

Petty.

Holding on.

For spite,

And life.

An archipelago of adamancy.

Demanding respect.

The ultimate underdog.

Undertow.

Underneath.

Understanding the feeling of being alone together.

We are a chain of islands.

A chain of islands are we.