The Poetry Well is a monthly column that showcases island poetry. This month includes a poem by Tanner Venturi.
I scribble through the blood red dusk,
eyes clouded by swirling smoke,
contemplating my place on this earth,
and the place of everything else.
I listen to the ballads of old school bohemians
drifting away with the sounds of boat oars
to a sad musician.
I ponder the timeless ability to enjoy life
and celebrate love, while sinking deeper
and deeper down into the folds of this heaven.
I watch the footprints of all those before me,
wash away with the recession
of icy waves, as I walk backwards
into the wilderness.
I’m tormented by the thought
that one day all of this is for naught,
as our eyes close or open for the last time.
I’m looking for this wild summer
sunset, only seen once or twice before,
to enjoy, as I sink down below the surface.