Anchor

We will not drop anchor

In this cursed place 

We are aware of time passing

But cannot move 

Our dreams are pale 

We remember them

Groggily 

In the morning 

Before the sun rises

And eases our bones 

Takes our head

Low to the pillow 

We do not stir

When we sleep 

There is no space

To toss and turn 

We check our pulse

It is racing 

Fast as a trigger finger 

Today we will rest

Fix a few problems

Drink tea

And watch the sky

The clouds float by 

Like angels 

They make us smile 

I suppose all anchors 

Drift with time 

Perhaps we will float 

To a better place.