Saltwater
What if you close your eyes
and your throat relinquishes
the morning’s bright
fingers, freed from bruises.
Suppose that particular night
never happened, the way
a wave crashing ashore
empties itself and trickles
back in separate communities,
mingling yet aloof, a
diminishing cortege. What
is the question? Take this
spoon. Fill it with saltwater.
Upend it into the pail. Observe.
“Saltwater” was first published in Nine Muses Poetry in May 2018.
O at the Edges 
Several distinct “nights” come to mind lured by your invitation to consider what-ifs … probably better I cannot undo any of them! For sure some of the best parts of my NOW began in dubious ways …
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So many what-ifs! I like my NOW, but wonder if I might have arrived earlier if I’d chosen a different fork…
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