i watched the person walk into the coffee shop, return with two coffees, get back into the vehicle, and drive away

morning is late
though has not yet
dulled itself
into afternoon.

you walk along
a dock,
wooden,
floating.

a sailboat is
tied to the dock,
floating,
fiberglass.

the sailboat
grew itself ribs,
in the Fall.
in the Fall
the sailboat
grew ribs and
skinned itself in
thick plastic sheeting.

all Winter long,
that sailboat,
fiberglass,
floating,
a cocoon.

and this
late morning,
not yet dull,
not still shimmering,
you walk
along a dock,
wooden,
floating.

and you walk
by a sailboat,
fiberglass,
floating.

and the ribs,
the ribs
are exposed,
bringing their shine
to the dulling day.

on the dock,
the skin is being
folded,
rolled,
packed away.

“uh oh”
you say
with a smile,
as you walk by
the sailboat,
its metamorphosis,
“now we know
it will snow
tonight!”

a gentle joke.
an easy smile.

it is Spring
and the sailboat
floats.
it is
fiberglass.
it is
shedding itself.

wooden,
on a dock
you walk.
floating.

the morning is
late,
it has not yet
dulled itself
into afternoon.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: