Preteritus

These side rails of cedar
Were formed too long ago,
They now splinter in inconceivable directions
Creaking with the gentlest of touch.

Yesterday,
I had to toss my best friend overboard
Not for mutiny, or, suspicion of such, but
Because I had to save him.

It deceives us;
On the open sea it chooses its shape.
But all I see is water.

Tomorrow,
They’re throwing me overboard.