Evening Ferry
For Maryanna
I watch her board, my black-haired girl,
leaving me once more for the family
that is not hers, but swallows her youth
in their service. When she leaves me
each week I stand so, touch my heart
with my fingers as she climbs the ramp
and looks at me, to make her smile before
she boards and disappears. And so we part.
In our each day together lurks the ghost
of separation, and the evening boat
looms vague but palpable in heart and mind.
Thus each week I stand apart and brood,
shackled by duty, impotent, alone,
watching the ferry pulling out and away
into the gathering gloom, until its lights
blur, fade, and vanish in the misty bay.
And walking home it has occurred to me:
somewhere, at another time, a darker shore,
a patient ferry waits to separate us
not for a week, but for eternity.
Lamma Island
April 2005
