ferryman

one thing, i’ll have to say,

is that i’ll always be in view of the mountains;

they’ll be high, high up.

so my job’s going to be this, listen:

i’ll have a raft, and a flowing river beneath me,

or rather it’s better to say just

a stretch of river,

because you can’t say it’s a river when

you don’t see where it comes out of or

where the end comes.

so, listen, i mean it, it’s an awkward kind of a thing,

unprecedented, in some ways:

i’m going to be a ferryman.

i’m going to be a ferryman

right over that strip of river,

that rushing river…

i’ll see faces,

many faces,

of different people, passing strange, normal,  inscrutable people,

with and without luggage

you name it, all sorts of things

reflected over that river,

that stretch of river (i’ve told you)

bright skyworld over it.

i’ll pole them over,

hear the stepping across,

foot from wooden raft onto moist earth,

denting the shoregrass (there’s joy in it), noiselessly,

jingle or two of coins…

well?

i’ll sit on the

side of my raft and watch

high, high up

the people scaling toward those

distant mountains