No sorrow
is ever great enough
to destroy
nature’s comforts,
so I manage
to salvage
slivers
of happiness
by rowing
up and down the jungled coast
alone in a small boat, passing through marshes
and tangled mangrove swamps, as I watch the ocean
where ships steam away
toward distant lands.
The sea is beautiful, and the breeze
brings a scent of forest flowers.
My horizon is vast, a limitless universe
of future verses.