A Raft of Grief

_{“The raft that means ‘a great number’ is not related at all to the raft that carries people or their possessions in the water. The two words are homonyms…” —Morris Dictionary of Word and Phrase Origins}

If only there were a boat,

low and long and loaded

with all we’d brought or built:

the fatal inattentions,

anxieties and tics

that time had sanctified,

our good and bad intentions,

rages, lapses, and aches.

If only it were that easy,

to stand only ankle-

deep in the sullied water

hoisting our shared cargo,

sinking no further beneath

its weight. If only the boat

did not need a rower;

we’d push it off together

then wade to opposite banks

absolved at last, forever,

buoyant, watching it go.