This island of mine

Stranded on the shores
With a bed borne of branches
And palms full of thorns

Between the hiccups of clouds
Another shore is visible

Pulling a thorn free
Blood drawn from the skin
Stolen ink
Impressed on a fallen palm leaf
Dropped among the twigs
I plead

Shipwrecked on this
Island of Mine.

Pleated, placed inside a bottle
Whose breath I shuttered
And with a vexing sigh
Launched into the waves
Hoping it would come out on
The Otherside

Weeks forgotten
Were my words misplaced?
Did the waves break its bow?

Some soul at harbor
Did they find my message
Washed up by the docks
Read it over, laugh it off
And smash it on the rocks?

Months have gone
Fatigued of the fauna and coast
To rest my mind
I flicked a hundred stones
Skipping them across the waters
Off to another hopeful home

Since then
I have rewritten my letter
Once and twice over
Editing my thesis
Imploring my retreat
Tossing them off
Towards every other beach

When the dawn breaks
I rush to the waterside
And sharpen my sight
Out across the sea
Waiting for a siren
Or a beacon of coming attraction
In belief that someone
Pondered over my petition

I figure now
A year has passed
I’ve grown gaunt and bearded too
The waves have brought me
No resolution
For all that I’ve exuded

Yet one starlit morning
Swimming in from the blue
A bottle rolled along the sand
Folded within
Parchment, fine and dry
With hurried steps
And craning hands
I grasped about and uncorked its hold
Unveiling a response
Trembling hands, picking at the creases
Reveal ink about the page
Blemished from a regal pen

We regret to inform you
That, at this time,
We did not see you fit for aiding
And have chosen another
Survivor to rescue.
We will keep your plea on file
In case we can save anyone
Any time soon
Or in the future.

Best of luck.
(Have you considered building a boat?)

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