Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

The Wave

I felt as if I were riding the trough of a huge wave

Moving lightning quick across some anonymous ocean.

There’s a wall of water in front and to the back of me,

But the trough runs quietly, pulling me along.

I sense that the wave will not engulf me; and I am safe.

And when some far shallows ascends, then the waves would break.

I would be deposited ashore, on my feet, of course.

I would stand, brush myself off, and go on.

You see, this was the exact way I’ve lived my life to date:

Being in the caprice of some disinterested force.

Slapdash running, letting time’s arrow, and scant else, guide me.

Now older, I cautiously watch that sea.

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