Timmy Tubbs

Rookie (Jan 14,1983 / Vancouver, WA)

Sailing - Poem by Timmy Tubbs

So October tails the winter
Chasing its feet behind tour stone corner
It traps memories in my mind
And they’re all made of thin gold
Shiny but killer

I remember Pratt Lake and its shine
And that neighbor boy who tied you to his trees
Then reached between your knees
This is not the game he said it would be
And this is not the game you said it would be

I seem to remember our sail as it ripped
And then your wind stopped its blow
You hopped to another’s boat
I shook my head and I stayed
I’m sewing the mainsail with strands of your hair
And I’m huffing and puffing with no jib
Continents move faster than this
That’s all right though; I’ll take this time to think
And rearrange my stones
Small to big
And I’ll throw the shiny colored ones away
To start anew

Did you make it to his shore?
And was it soft
And are you still anchored to hatred?
Like I’m anchored to questions?

Welp, both my hulls are still working on this Hobie Cat
So I’ll lean to take one clear out of the water
And use someone else’s wind to go
I’m turning the till the other way babe
Don’t look back or turn to peek
Because we know what happens when you look at me


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 4, 2006

Poem Edited: Saturday, June 19, 2010


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