buoy

The water rippled green
under my boat.
I floated free,
unanchored to one spot.

Then spied a little buoy,
red and white-
a ghost upon the lake
of my delight.

A marker with a message
from the shore:
“Turn back, fair traveler-
don’t float too far!”

I glanced back at the land
but did not stop-
sailed deeper still
into the sea of thought.