A colleague once said,
“Never trust anyone,”
And his words swallowed me
The way the Delaware did
When I was 5 and nearly drowned.
Trust, the last thing I held, then released
To the downward swirling spiral,
The murky memory of innocence
Floating up there above the surface,
The faith I had in hands.
After such a menacing remark,
It was hard to see him in the same light, or any light.
Professional liar, whose power was pressed into phony
Passports, magnum holsters,
Now just a sad patrolman, walking the beat
In a city without people.
I trusted my father’s voice
When he coaxed me to jump from the boat,
“I’m here, I’ll catch you,”
Assured of his grasp as it slipped from my waist to the water
I trusted my Prom date to stop, while he tugged at my zipper,
Trusted myself to tell him when he had gone far enough,
His flailing hands feeling much like
Everyone who ever let go too easily.
Too easily I trust in tomorrow,
Trust in the collection of moments that will carry me there,
And there again. But not to trust in others,
To saddle up cynicism, seems alien like breathing underwater,
Like grabbing a stranger’s hands instead of
Riding the current
Down the long and muddy river.
