Hoboken Ferry

The water passes
under me
a living skin
smooth in its
black sheen
the matchstick glow
of the city piers
once graveyards of memories
now vibrant, green,
pumping with life
as the skin
beneath me is cut
and the darkness
explodes with frothy white
as if from a rabid beast
pulses of explosions
fan out
released to the sky
and crashing back
down through
the glossy skin
of the darkening sea.

© 1999, Robinson Publications, all rights reserved