Crystal

Waves lap in a precious moment of calm,
gently rocking this lonesome boat side-to-side.
Two oars sit in silent slumber, content with the
isolation in which we now find ourselves,
lost in the middle of the sea’s vast expanse.
I pull an empty glass from a bag of trinkets,
clean it with a brand new cloth so the sun
glistens off the transparent cylinder shape.
Then, I dip it into the ocean, filling the glass
with the sea’s salty water for no real reason;
and what I see in the glass both startles and saddens,
for the water is not blue like the surrounding sea
but completely clear, like the cleanest crystal.
Then, I come to resent the sea’s ability to
achieve clarity so easily, as the sun begins to die
and the cold crawls through my skin, plunging
me back into the dark depths of murky thought.