Just Visiting

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Just Visiting

At this shore the pelicans know 

better than to bat against the billow, 


their stillness less despair

than consent to be carried there


at odd angles like tired toddlers

or a flock of bald tires scudding


silent over the sea's black

ice. Is not our slippery way 


with words, this endless appetite

for local fare or a roadside map


enough to make clear

we’re not from around here?   


Just look at how unmoored in a head-

wind, how hard we insist to flap


to ensure we're going nowhere

further than the nowhere we set out for.


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