Night Ferry

Blood-drop, lung of fire setting past the sea bell and wave; why am I separate from that giant burrowing into further life? The body breathes and rides a heavy-netted ocean swollen by the tide. Under the half-moon it’s the lighthouse light that turns the rest of me to early nightfall, headland, home. I send it back, a mirrored flickering across cold waters. We allow ourselves the crest that breaks above the surface then re-forms. We make it human and we call it love. This wintering is my own and not the world’s, although the world is wintering.