Boats (by Helen Durling)

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This poem is copyright

It appeared innocent enough,

Two boats moored in a cove
Rising and falling with the incoming tide
The waves a soft slap against hulls

Seagulls circled overhead against a tropical sky
Salt hung in the humid air and palm trees
Sang their air-laden psalms to the wind

Decks creaked as if ghosts tripped their length
The seaweed rose and fell, fish circled,
Their soft feathery fins
Brushing against the boats.

Sometimes unexpectedly and almost imperceptibly
The wind hits a high note
Rocks starboard to crazy,
Contorts a stiffened bridge, hot hold,
Wet jewel in the midst of cool.

There's a moment of levitation,
A transcendent antecedent,
Collective act of grace.

Incoherent, wordless,
Moving, choosing, exuding, buoyant,
The tide connects and boats drop
With a soft thud, shudder
And ripples move into the warm Thai summer swell.