I pass my days floating
low in the clear waters of
late summer’s heedless oblivion,
skin warmed by a sun whose
heartbeat is never quite strong
enough to burn the winter
out of my soul.  Caged by salt-
streaked bones lies a conscience
both weak and heavy, waiting
while my eyes scan ever
the horizon, searching
for a truth they won’t recognize:
I was not meant
for paradise.