So I Watch Ships
So? I watch ships. I do it alone, not from shame, but to be sane. Predictable gliding sideways hotels and malls and wheelless truck haulers, Guardians of the watery plains, Observers of the horizon and expanse and depth - And the heights, too; Waving at us, sounding a salute for us, feeding and moving us. 20 thousand seven hundred sixty-three tons to transport With effortless glide. The piling water on the bulbous bow skipping and jumping, those seaway dolphins playing along the copper hulls. And our 24 feet gives all it can as we relax with friends lapping up the spray and rusty sun. The insurmountable power of the silent deck Bound only by its own Herculean capacity. Then it passes another on Ontario, in the canal, Waiting turns at the locks like ebullient children lined up for the thrill ride. Waves run up on her, or tap tap against her sides. She invariably survives, The stoic sorceress of unrelenting drive. On shore, wav...