a Poem by Raquel Swann
How long must I wait

For the tides to turn in my direction

While I wade through shallow waters

While the birds fly overhead

Soaring past without a care nor worry

I gaze into the azure sky and wish

I could take flight

Instead I wear shoes made from cement

Created from choices and decisions

I made with others in mind

Shackled to a beach

Working against gravity

Waiting for the tide

To roll me over

In the middle of nowhere

The tide rises

A golden hammer washes ashore

I reach for it and clench it