The message in a bottle
flowed like flood tide down my throat.
I felt as if I’d lost an oar
but didn’t have a boat.
I couldn’t see the shining sea
from this far on dry land.
But several more damp messages
might make me feel some sand.
On second thought, I felt I ought
to push down on the throttle.
I didn’t need an oar or boat
but just a bigger bottle.