A SMALL BOAT

I left a boat on the Neuse,

in the middle of the broad river.

Now fish no longer swim freely;

the river divides here, up and down,

while the distant hills no longer look wild.

It is a boat made of fiberglass,

moored in the waves

so birds passing by can rest on it,

knowing it’s not an island

or a floating secret.

The forests and grassland on the banks

shift, as if to form

a new rhythm with the boat,

though it’s not something

that will stay long on the Neuse.