“. . . until someone finds you / something else to do.”

                                                            Leonard Cohen

The anchor is a victim

no more than the dripping oars

or the lines made taut

by soft lead sinkers.

The anchor is not a poem

but a guide with sand in its eyes

and a hook too big and blunt

for any mouth.

The anchor is a contract

not of glory but of patience

between surfaces and hours,

flashing lure and fading light.

The anchor is a prayer for the father and son

and for the boat kneeling before the reeds

as it reaches for each shore

carrying its own lake and a coiled rope.

Jeffrey Thompson

Jeffrey Thompson was raised in Fargo, North Dakota, and educated at the University of Iowa and Cornell Law School. He lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where he practices public interest law. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Neologism Poetry Journal, North Dakota Quarterly, The Main Street Rag, Passengers Journal, Tipton Poetry Journal, The Tusculum Review, FERAL, and Unbroken. His hobbies include reading, hiking, and photography.

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