Stone Islands

If I had wings I would fly far away from here to one of those stone islands
in the middle of the ocean that only sea birds frequent and there
I would sit day after day lamenting all my sins and roads
not taken waiting for my spirit to rise up once more
and grab life around the waist and fling it down
where I can control it at arms length there
like a biting snake striking at anything
in its path; I tire of being the victim
how frightfully boring it has all
become, in come the waves
crashing on land’s end
and in the dark I will
count back exactly
how many steps
it took to get
me here
and
then
begin again
in the morrow
with the rising sun