Awash in darkness
I remain hidden inside
watching the heavens
for astrological signs
as I sail beneath
the ancient Mariner’s map
pondering cartographers
telling me where I should go.
While conical strobes
warn me of hidden dangers
and steer me past shallows, shoals.
I command my soul
through its circumlocutions,
on it’s déjà vus.
Reexamining waypoints,
the deserted isles.
Rethinking destinations
beyond past doldrums.
Resisting the enticement
of buried treasures.

M. Zane McClellan

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