in a place where you must take a ferry
to get to the airport, and there are no
roads into or out of town, one must be
able to deal with the structure of life
as it begins and ends each day. rivers
flow downhill to the ocean, clear fresh
water pushing the salt water away, over a
mile or more off shore. i saw Pegasus made
of ice, half-submerged, attempting to make a
single jump out of the water just ahead of the
whale that spewed a spray from its blowhole, and
in the background, someone says something about a
repositioning – that which moves from place to place
for a need. the waitress has been speaking about her
dreams for travel. she has very white straight teeth
that smile without any help from her red lips. her nails
are neatly manicured with fleshtone polish, a continuous
shade. The sea is blue when the sun is out. i want to know
to know how she does it; how she remains in such an isolated
place and look up to ask the question. hanging from her neck is
a silver and onyx pendant with an anchor embossed on the front
and i understand.