Wilson
a poem inspired by Tom Hanks’ island companion in Castaway, theorizing a different ending to the story
you float fast away,
bobbing like an apple,
on a carnival day.
I know I’m famous,
don’t let the film cameras fool you,
but my island’s only companion,
where are you swimming to?
When we parted
I looked like hairy D’Artagnan
from the three hair-sketeers.
I am no champion,
just a castaway bucket of tears.
I was rescued,
you never came back.
I grieved when on the horizon
disappeared my beloved speck.
You were all I had…
pathetic I know,
but onward I go.
I pitched this sail my raft,
began again to row
I returned, emptier than before,
the wife is gone,
the tv too.
So now I spend my days
— doing what I do.
I walk from my new apartment
down to the beach shores
every Thursday at noon
hoping to find my wilson
— marooned.
I did this every week.
Every week until I found you.
I scarcely believed,
Fateful day!
Ran to the shore,
Punched back the tide,
Didn’t know what to say,
So I yelled your name,
And swam a while.
You were in a tragic state,
The day I grabbed you
— out of the watery gyre.
Your face was like
a wedding bride
whose husband ran away,
mascara trickling down;
bad weather cancelled the parade,
but it’s all okay now.
Now that you’re home with me,
on my high shelf,
you have fresh paint
upon your lids;
I close my eyes,
lapping waves are faint
like that time we first met,
lying by the sea limp, no restraint.
I’m rocking you now,
here in my arms,
my eyes are shut, my Wilson,
no need to be alarmed.
You are here with me, my Wilson.
I am so truly delighted
you came to me
from across the blue sea,
the hour we reunited.
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by Ethan Hoeft
#poetry #tomhanks #castaway #fedex #wilson #volleyball #ethanhoeft #reunited
