Jetty

Along the wooden hand atop this tangled jetty
This plank I fixed with railroad ties and tar
That wood I chalked her outline on
To defect the mortal tidal ebb and blast

Among the twisted yards of stone I caught
A model ship inside a bottle corked
Like Gulliver I picked it up and stared

But broke the glass to stroke its sculptured prow
And flung it out to see its spin and splash
Then plucked daisies while the sun fell down

Surface the jetty runs a banister
At night I lean and think of railroad cars
And dream of island airstrips touching down

When morning comes I search for sail or mast
Or silver winged tips or iron that billows steam
And ponder the memory of that lilliputian ship

Beneath me sways and slips and recovers
The railroad ties and tar they hold for now
Her outline starts to reappear, it moves
Atop the wooden hand along this tangled jetty