Francine Witte

Bring Me Back That Horizon

 

Late night, shore light. Just enough

to see. And we stand there, tired

of ourselves. We can’t seem to live

this moment. Like the horizon, it seems

endless. It doesn’t have walls. It doesn’t

have a floor. Not like the past which

might have been bad, but we knew it.

We can remember the boats floating off

into the blue. The waves and their scrub

washing Our names off the sand. When it

was happening, when that boat was about

to sail off out of our vision, we didn’t like it

much. We couldn’t know what it meant.

It was now. Then. It was the

Horizon stretching into the rest

of the world. Years later, it works.

Years later, it has walls. 

Francine Witte is a flash fiction writer and poet, and the author of the flash collection RADIO WATER. Her newest poetry book, Some Distant Pin of Light, has just been published by Cervena Barva Press. Her work has been widely published, and she is a recent recipient of a Pushcart Prize. She lives in New York City. Please visit her website francinewitte.com. She can be found on social media @francinewitte.