Finally Free Poem by Mark Heathcote

Barefoot I walk along the water's edge
ecru sand seeping wet through my toes
a myriad of tiny grains threatening to devour me
impervious to the cold waves lapping at my feet
oblivious to the cold winter air that surrounds me.
I sigh; thoughts evade me.
I become a voyeur to my very soul.
Negate all that I am—a bookmark in this life
deaths now so close, she-is-in propinquity
so I swim in the middle of her vast darkness.
Vivid memories flashed before my eyes
I cry out aloud as I succumb to her salty depths
I ask if I am now 'finally free, 'she-does-not answer me.
So barefoot, I step back away from the water's edge.
Back on shore, I prepare to go on living,
at least for another day without drowning.