Recession

I feel as if a great
Wave has passed, as if I
Were upborne on the
Crest of it and
Strove, strove with its
White horses that
Threatened to
Beat me down and I was
Tumbled and pitched
To the very heart of it and
Spun within its dark
Green suffering until I
Surfaced, was cast free and the
Bearing wave rolled itself up and
Away to a new ocean
Leaving me to float in a
Calm sea and exhausted
In its arms.  Today I let it
Drift me in towards the
Shore and I can no more
Resist its softnesses than
Wish myself anywhere
Else but here.

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