Seeing a world not of my own
A breath of fresh air at first
Watching the rhythm in their unfamiliar patterns
I study to compare them
to mine
Though I know nothing of their seasons
Or the roots that have grown
beneath this identifiable crust
There is one thing I do know
In this very moment
of time
I am a great ship on the sea of my own seasons
Rich in galley and hull
And when this great ship returns to port
With a brand new pair of eyes
I will sift through my own treasures
Remembering those quiet movements
In the changes of
the sea.
Joni James 2017 road trip to Anacortes