The Ferry Boat

The sea has no memory.
A field of chipped granite
moving back and forth
over a sediment of soldiers.

Where the warships collide
is a canyon where sailors
wait to jump.

A sunken fighter plane lies
covered in sargasso seaweed.
Eyeless windows, engines mouths for starfish.

Above, a ferry boat wanders
the night-fogged sea,
a blinkered tunnel
without an end point.

What carries light to such places?
Seeds of stars are falling,
trying to turn things around.

4 responses to “The Ferry Boat

  1. This is vivid and compelling, Burl, and also intriguing. Any specific place? Doesn’t have to be of course, but I wondered.


  2. I’m thinking Dardanelles myself.


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