The Past is All Over

I want you to go on the ferry 

to the island with me

The others will be okay 

for a day In your hand 

I will turn my hand  

into a more delicate hand

The past is all over them

and the water is

a long wobbly plate

When we arrive at the island

leave your umbrella 

on the dock It won't be there 

when we return My love for you 

is a bucket of water 

I throw at the sun 

a large cloud becoming fog

a long wobbly plate

I don't have anything to say 

about the island 

and then night falls 

like a blanket over a bat

onto us We ride home 

in the boat that drank the lake

Originally published in Sixth Finch (Summer 2014).