I wrote this poem over 20 years ago in a creative writing class, one of the best class experiences of my life. There were four of us in the room: the professor (William Virgil Davis) and three students. Each week we would discuss our poems for three hours, ripping the work apart line by line, making sure our words said what we meant for them to say. It was as brutal as it was wonderful, and I wish that type of experience for any writer/poet visiting this page.

Separation

The ancient skiff glides
through thick fog
upon a waveless sea.

The mariner draws
full nets of fish;
throws them all back.

He guides the boat
away from shore,
afraid of finding land.