On Leaving Juneau

(from the vaults)

The darkest days are quite, ripples lap the rocks
Our faces face the weather here like stone
A gull cries out, its hunger echoes down the docks
The ferry sails to harbor, furtive and alone

The moment that we both have hated
Fast approaches, like the ferry running late
Her face is pale, her hair bright red, unfaded
Flame in darkness, angel at the gate

I’m leaving but our bodies haven’t learned this fact
It starts to rain, she hides her face against my chest,
I stroke her hair – no use to try and leave intact
No sun, no sudden breakthrough from the west

So small they grow so fast, the docks, my life, her face
A glimpse of flame, then she goes down without a trace


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