something changes, shifts
it starts in the ferry line
—suspended—
the world behind, the island ahead
an exploration of the art of waiting
load into the womb-shaped ferry
fellow travelers, familiar guides
it is all liquid, whether light or dark
at the non-speed of water
landing, the deep smell
of open space, calm
houses subordinate to the land
the ever-tangled green.
and a culture simple enough to understand:
a store, a café, a post office.
a fire department.
enough.
it isn’t only that
the pace is slower
it is also deeper
for each of us, in our own way
*Copyright 2010 by Luther Allen. This poem appears in The View from Lummi Island.
—–
Photo by Charity Burggraaf
Advertisements
