“Anxious about winter
ferry crossings…”

Mix of rain and snow, we rode silently amongst
Spruce forests. She drove, more accustomed to
Narrow asphalt disappearing into fog, seashores
Vanishing into nothingness. Ghostly landscapes
Her home, I was a visitor, anxious about winter
Ferry crossings, opalescent snow-globe existence,
An island lost within cresting Bay of Fundy.

We began subtly, “Come with me,” she invited.
“Christmas together, alone.” Except once arriving
At her stone cottage, another presence haunted
Us, or me, ever-roaring sea. Waves, if not moving,
Were frozen, colliding, expanse of ice-glazed
Stoney beach. “You tremble so,” she whispered,
At my ear, colliding effects of earth elements.

My friend was an islander. No, I was not,
Specially during winter. Shoulder shrugs, we
Both realized this. My perceived inadequacies,
Ghostly landscape upon bed blankets, I froze
Instead of giving myself to arms, inked and
Accepting. Hot bath, warm bathrobe, I took her
Hand, naked island lost to cresting seas.

Thanks for reading. 

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