Arriving

The water pitched and danced

before the clacking ferry

which churned through

unaffected by its heaving,

Light withdrew to shine from distant pinpoints,

Waves tended toward black

And when, around the chop

into the harbor

the boat slowed,

my temples pulsed in echo

of the wind’s pounding

and I was suddenly ravenous

and longed for the yellow kitchen

and its round table

Home loomed up

in the comforting darkness

around the lighted dock

Crickets confirmed

I had arrived.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 23, 2014