THE NAMES OF THE CHARTS - Poem
Names on the Charts
Our world gets smaller
As we age within it.
That is the only way
I can explain
Your shrinking grounds.
There was a time when
Your wee trolling boat
Covered thousands
Of miles in a season.
But not near the end.
Your drag became smaller.
The back side of Gravina,
Twenty Fathom Bank,
False Island to Ship Island,
Narrow Point to Ratz Harbor
Maybe it was the comfort
Of knowing the fish
Always returned
To the places where you
Had caught them before
Maybe it is was knowing
That you could read
The snags along the beach
The landslides pointing
Toward the sudden shallows
Easier than your eyes
Could parse the
Shrinking numbers
On the gradually
Disintegrating charts
Perhaps like a car
Attuned to its driveway
Your boat just knew
Its way to the grounds
And then home again,
Even on the sea
There are the paths
We wear so deeply
That eventually
We cannot escape.
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