WHAT IS CARRIED
The small breeze caresses the old land where
once the two ships sank - now they are huddled
hulks, each with its own hidden framework sunk
in the sand. Sometimes, at the lowest of low tides,
you can still see the ribbed-hulk of wood-structure
peeking above a dwindling surf. All those mysteries
of time and of place : how many long years now was
it? They say 'one hundred and thirty four years' and
no one remembers a thing. Ships carried people from
places afar; to here, to here, past a harbor to sand-bar.
Entryways by Verrazano, the Narrows, the portal to this
other world : swaddled, peaked people, stunned by a
dis-belief; without a strength and staggering, tired.
To rest, they sit in this salt-water field; providing
new dreams for themselves for all this eternity.
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