Dream on an early ferry

To find myself, in darkness on the ferry
The known already lesser known,
The island moving out of me, alone
When all depends on steel and water,

The scenery turns red and grey,
The East ahead in sunrise. Time
Takes more from crossing than it does at home.
In mist the engine is the heartbeat in this coma.

The vessel travels backwards through my time,
My mother combs my hair at sea,
I hold the brush and me, the child, is also she,
But she moves out of me as mist gives in. Arriving.

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