Words are like water.

Some so light floating on wavetops to be  missed.

Some emerge  from the  depths, rise like frightening, toothy beasts

A surprise to those who haul them to the surface;

others not so surprising, but known and hidden,

tracked  by sonar, recalled, regretted.

Even more rise from the edge of darkness, beyond the rays of light and imagination,

The carcasses of dreams which sank to places we’d rather not fish.

I am  seeking.

Find me there, sunken, enwrapped by some grassy hold, weighted words unsaid.

I left  a trail, a river of promises like bubbled breath surface bound, one last hope.

Cast a line.

I rise.