2.21.17

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it is not new to say
everything points
to everything else
but we must say it
every evening,
when the old pier legs
are bodies in the water,
and the bridge in the distance
is a sentence, spanning
two different histories,
when the day
is almost out of hours
and we have forgotten
what it even means
to offer safe passage,
safe harbor, safe home.

 

photo and poem by katherine ferrier ©2017

2 thoughts on “2.21.17

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