In summer, I reach the shore
of Lake Superior. It was a hard year
to get here. I wished for calm
water. Not yet defiled
by anxiety’s runoff. By chemicals
out of balance. My psychiatrist says
if I want to make art, I can make art. Make
the plunge. Reveal my sludge—
how it floats to the surface wherever I swim.
Read more about my tarot poetry project.
Cards: Nine of Cups, Nine of Swords, Knight of Cups.
So far this is my favorite poem that I've written as part of this project.