Prediction

I foresee the sea swashbuckling in,
in its all-engulfing power and bluster
time and tide wait for no man manner,
to take away another year from us –
2019 will be dragged under 
will become a bedraggled creature
that swells the sea with its memories,
our memories, our small adventures,
our losses, ah our painful losses,
our tears and smiles and laughter,
our wounds in salty water,
our joy going under
but particles of our joy
buoying up from the depths
little bubbles of it surfacing
as if we’re still gasping for and grasping at air
raising our arms, a show of hands,
are we waving or drowning
as the clock ticks on and we dive in
to 2020 and begin swimming all over again.