In order to get anywhere in this world of rain
You need the help of ferries. Since one brought me
I’m not growing older, not for a while.
My lover calls me “Old Man,” “Baby”
Avalon is here among the rhodadenrdrons and
cedar.
Me so lucky and so clean in a big house in
the woods,
fire in the stove, food in the belly. How'd it happen?
I’ve gatherd around me my unread books
And they slide beneath my fingers like wet
leaves.
This morning I
raked up branches downed in last night’s storm.
Here, where everything moves in such exquisite
circles.
Now, I’m happy for the release from my world
Wool sweaters and the smell of coffee so refreshingly
familiar
How could it have happened?
Crab apple tree is blooming despite the perpetual
twighlight
For this is a shadow world even in March and
There are places I’m not far worse than this.
Such good fortune.
So good to be here and leaving so soon
But how did it happen?
It must have been the ferries.
two
weeks on bainbridge