Into the Vortex

I spend my days barely afloat

awash in darkness and debris,

circling a shallow moat

a tiny raft on tempest sea.

I walk along the knife blade’s edge

one wrong step can take me down

balancing along the ledge

it’s hard to keep to solid ground

Another day of status quo.

another day under the gun;

another day I can’t forego,

another day I’ve not succumbed.

It’s not my nature to make waves,

in silence, I let things accrue.

But to what end? I cannot stave

a tempest so long overdue.

The keel has broken from this boat,

and wind and storm may shred her sail—

yet no one really knows the scope

or fathoms if the ship has failed.

Sucked into the maelstrom's eye

they‘ll never say she didn’t try.

© Ginny Brannan 2018