by Mary E. Lowd
I am a piece of driftwood
On a foreign shore
Your waves and storms
Moods and frowns
You thought you’d hidden behind corners
But actually shone through
Like the sun’s corona
Leaking around the moon
Despite its staunchest efforts
To block the day
Brought me here
But even lost
On the far side of the world
I will find my way into hands
That mold me into something more
Drill a hole in my side
Bore in a screw
And fix me with a joint
Attached to others
Like me
That were once lost at sea
And now become
A piece of found art
Structured into a dancing being
A woman made of driftwood
Dancing with a man made
Of broken bones
Forever in the castle foyer
Celebrating the mythology
Of this foreign land
Ancient history
Combined with modern art
We become more together
Than the ocean ever knew
We could become