the beautiful bay

with bodies in it
is glassy, serene,
murky, cold
as an icy eye
of a fish yanked
to itts suffocation,
rarely does beauty
and calm not have its
murky undergrowth,
a dark harbor
where unresolved
conflicts, and
unhappy marriages,
business deals gone
bad and simple
accidents
park themselves
in the undertow–
taken there by
someone– to simply
disappear.

– On the bus on the way to work | May 9, 2003