SOMETIMES YOUR SADNESS IS A YACHT: Poetry, by Jack Underwood

SOMETIMES YOUR SADNESS IS A YACHT

Huge, white and expensive, like an anvil dropped from heaven: how will we get onboard, up there, when it hurts our necks to look? Other times it is a rock on the lawn, and matter can never be destroyed. But today we hold it to the edge of our bed, shutting our eyes, on another opened hour and listening to our neighbours’ voices having the voices of their friends around for lunch.

(Jack Underwood)