we bottomfish
from pt roberts
to alden bank
to matia
to clark
to sinclair
jigging hard
a dozen sea cucumbers
accidentally snagged
half a dozen dogfish
one nice cabezon
and no halibut.
no rockfish.
no lings.
these fertile waters
wiped clean.
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
first weekend of halibut season
flat tides all day
perfect water
brine the horse herring
collect the heavy gear
prime the vision of outer hein bank
up at 4:30, checking marine weather
“small craft advisory”
sustained 27 knot wind at smith island
i wander about all day
landlocked
aimless
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
—–
Smith Island photo
wind
is just
a faster
less substantial
rock
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
whatcom chief gone for two weeks of annual maintenance
we ride the ‘squito, a 50 passenger foot ferry
out of our car shells, we meet, chatter on the crossing
hard wind, rain—december weather someone complains
the ‘squito bounces at the dock, the old man next to me
says if he didn’t have to feed his dog, he would have stayed
on the mainland, rented a hotel room.
do you ever get used to this weather—
how long have you been on the island?
he thinks, calculating.
over 70 years, and hell no.
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
travel through
overgrown path
ward off
blackberry
brush knee
against tall grass
white blossomed branch
of thimbleberry
spreads its wings
part the wild
ocean spray’s mane
the single whip
of drooping alder branch
suspended from heaven
rooted in earth
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
—–
thimbleberry photo
mayday ceremony:
chants, bells, drums
music, prayers
new age old hippies and Swil Kanim
wafting violin compositions
mesmerizing us on ground
his ancestors for twenty centuries
made totems and potlatches:
he calls
the eagle
comes
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
—–
Swil Kanim photo
latticed orbs
of slug-sweet dandelions
fuzzy puffs of translucent snowstorm
on all our banks, borders
our neighbors’ neat-green
carries no such profusion
and we dutifully
clip snip and pull
in this fruitless war
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
—–
dandelion
