Ferry Ride

Sky dark, no stars, no moon,
but on the edge of the bay
sparklers set in the rim of the sky
mark the glittering city.

The water black, drawn
in a great arc from the boat
to the distant flare of the horizon;
the receding waves of the boat’s wake
swallow and release
lobster buoys and the bobbing
red channel markers.

The ferry passengers sleepily
read the evening news
or doze on the hard seats.
Above them hang orange
life preservers which
attract no notice.

Ahead three lamps in a row
send long shining columns
through the reflecting sea.
The ferry gains the dock,
curving neatly through
the moored boats.
The horizon now is dark
behind the island silhouette.

A young girl hops out
at the dock, throwing the line
with lazy expertise
as her father and his father did.
Tied up to the great blocks
of the granite pier
the boat sleeps.


Lari Smith