Sailor Without a Port

For a sailor without a port no wind is favorable. — Seneca

I may as well throw out my to-do list.

Those old tasks have no point now.

Lost, I don’t know

where I’m going, let alone

how to get there.

I’d like to fly away home,

but the ships in the harbor are burning.

The whole city is on fire,

books packed tightly

on their shelves

feel the lick of the flame.

Still, I know where I came from,

and even if the hollow eyes

of the monsters who lit the match

are glowing in the darkness,

I am not alone.

In the flickering light

I see you too.

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Mary Camille Thomas

Mary Camille Thomas is a native of Santa Cruz who is grateful to make her home on the California coast once more after living internationally and on the road. She studied comparative literature at UC Davis and received a master’s degree in library science from UCLA, which gave her a way to earn a living while making a life among books. Her poetry and essays have appeared in the Monk in the World Guest Post Series, Moving Force Journal, Presence, Porter Gulch Review, Second Wind, Sisters Singing, and The New Story, and she has completed a novel called What Lies Buried about a man reckoning with his family’s Nazi past. View all posts by Mary Camille Thomas

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