Claonaig Ferry

by Chris Powici

Oh I feel that you are near me, Oh I wish it to be
The Unthanks

I lean against the wet steel of the guardrail
listen to the engine’s soft, oily breath
and creak of tarpaulin from the car deck

a gannet glides through drifts of summer rain
a cormorant stands for a second
on a green wave
and shakes the sea from its wings

halfway to Claonaig
we’re all of us getting by
on weather and oil and light

guillemot bob on the swell

just below the surface
moon jellies billow and sway