to Ekphrastic Art]
[Return to Poems]
Little Boat, Big Boat
Three-pronged wake--Neptune's trident?--
points the way, an arrow of milk through
milky blue, points toward the huge red-primed hull
with its inverted castle of wavery rusty towers?
Or towards its own arrow point, where light
as lovingly examines the shallow peanut-shell
craft, perhaps checking for contraband shadows?
(And where do you think you're going,
Mister, with that dot of big-boat orange?)
Or is the arrow the point, its soft feathered
edge rolling into the smooth chalky blue
of a sleeping infant's blanket, milky masses
muffling the motor's mutter, which, however,
is given away in the blip-blip-blip
of reflected masts, as the little boat rises
from its big orange bap-bap-bapping noise
into its reflection in stillness.
October 5, 2002