Nothing can restrain the light.
Spring billows along the shore,
the roar of the sap
races in my ears.
Dark clouds to the north
and in my chest.
Wherever I look,
sadness and doubt.
Numbing tiredness.
The thrumming of ferry pistons
promises my exhaustion
a lovely short nap.
Misty morning bike ride,
spray on my pant leg.
No bother,
it will dry
and brush off.
Gray sky, water, air,
dull green wash along the shore.
We slip into a fog bank.
There, only
the pattern of the water
and a sentinel cormorant.
Morning poems collected on the way to Seattle.
