Lorena Ortiz Jasso

Ships Log: 8.25.23

I reached into my jacket and found a gold pocket watch.
Don’t know how it got there
maybe I bought it during a class trip in middle school

Time never makes sense in this place
hours/ days/ years
feel like minutes
nonetheless, it’s always running out

I was standing on a dock, in the fog to my right a boat
A tiny ship, like the ones pirates used to steal

The others in town had taken sailboats to who knows where
Were there islands out there?

I climb onto the ship
instead of hoisting the anchor
I stand there to feel the breeze
listen to the floor creaking as I shifted my weight

In the distance a dark cloud, the rumbling of thunder
The sky moves quickly

How long I have been here?
I pulled out my watch
the minute hand is moving fast
I looked closer and the hour hand overtakes it

The storm is on top of me…
so I stepped off the boat and the world goes white

I have no memory of what followed.

What if I had just lifted the anchor?