Impending

There’s a nice small house
unfinished on the beach. There’s this

one last board to be held in place,
one last half driven nail.

There’s this hammer
on the shore, and a wave

coming in — in fact, there are
a lot of waves. Big strong

waves.  The wave
won’t pick up the hammer,

but you keep trying, though.
You keep putting the hammer

into the waves expecting one of them
to drive that nail for you.  

I say, you could just turn around
next time you’re holding the hammer

and finish this up,
drive that nail, you know.

Yes, you say,
but how will the world ever learn

to bend to my will if I do 
everything myself?  This is

the right thing to do, you’ll see,
and you go back to 

trying to float a hammer on the ocean
while your little house leans into the sand

behind you.  I walk away before
the tide starts to come in.