sea

[poche]

once again, on the verge of demise
my resolve

dissolves and flutters like leaves
of a dying summer.
resting on the rolling waves
one tiny piece shines among
the sea's flotsam of countless years.
should i dive and retrieve what is lost?
but the sea is cold;
i am naked
my skin is raw; 
and the deep is 
unforgiving...