Steve Ewing
As we build And repair the harbor I see your hand It comes up Dripping From deep within The sandy bottom
See the cellar’s Copper bottom Turn the house Into a ship
I build stone circles To watch The sweep Of year The fan of rises The arc Of settings
The coffee shop is hummin The grill is Piled high Eggs and bacon Poppin Home fries stacked Knee high
I saw you anchored In summer Just on the edge Outside the shoal Still shallow Off Shear Pen Pond
Green side up Knife goes in Cut it clean Top shell off Thumb on guts One smooth swipe