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.
