This ought to be interesting,
but I can't promise. Your guess is, truly,
as good as mine. "Keep your expectations low,
and you'll enjoy it," a friend once told me
with respect to some film, and I decided
to take that as my mantra apropos of life
itself--
But, honestly, I prefer to harbor
a little hope, not a freighter, by any means,
nor a yacht, but a small wooden skiff
bumping against the dock, battered by
the repetitive stress of waves,
like the hands of the fisherman from
tying knots and hauling lines and
rowing out, over and and over again,
to sea, fairly certain nothing grand
will happen, but open to the possibility
of those mythic selkies, that great fish,
out there in the deep.
Why not?
After all, this ought to be interesting,
but we must do our part: suspend
our disbelief even as we anchor our hearts
in the improbability of anything
extraordinary.