Two poems written on the water

Boat Ride on the Chesapeake with my Father, then my Stepfather and then a Friend

It's the razors edge,
neither here nor there.

When the sky and the water become one (in color,)
the old memories intertwine with the new moment.

Nothing is remember, nothing is captured.

I swim every time I'm out,
to remember,
to be in that moment.
To live.

It doesn't exist.
It's neither here nor there.
It doesn't exist.
It's not there.

Before I do it, I don't want to do it. After I do it, I forget.
It's neither here nor there.
It's Gone.

And I see things now and they rake up these; distant, twisted, distorted memories.
I don't know, I can't see them.
It's Déjà vu.
It's a confused reality.
It's dizzying.

And I just interact with the moment at hand, maybe I forget the past for a minute.
Then I post the memory in my head,
the new one,
over top the similar old one.

----

On and Looking at the Lookout Tower

Where my foot has stepped there is no trace.
And from the sea this is joyous relief.
My disappearance
To disappear...from the ground.
And water drifts us further and further away to the forgotten.