Shipwreck

fire sky

Gazing at the moon’s reflection, water
Bobbing, gently glowing ripples shape-shift
Sky bombs bursting, seas swelling, changing form
Crashing, smashing, overboard, it’s our choice
Sink or swim. I reach, you grasp — catalyst.
Sprawling, heaving, we wash onto the sky.

This poem is the 4th stanza of Fire (working title) from the Sestina Synthetica project on Chalkboard.