Passage, by Emily Bernhardt

View from a Window, Ibiza by Alexis Gritchenko (Ukraine) c. 1960s

​Passage
       
ME     from my view all is hidden beneath an opaque fog     impossible to divine air from sea or to
see any landform     in my Adirondack I pick up a book I will not read it drops face down the spine
cracks     beyond the horizon on the island invisible to me two-hundred steps ascend from deck to
dock      many times I have negotiated the climb from boat to pier and I know well by now the ship
is arrived the passengers disembarked all a chatter with movielettes of the breached whale and
galloping dolphins
 
YOU     mix your palette from your canvas chair where the world is clear before you     to see
the swell     to see the helmsman steady his sail-less craft through troughs of teal-tinged sea     to
salute the windmill waving from the hilltop     who shouts ahoy to those that moor    your box 
of paints is open to the shadow of the harlequin gate that defines your porch     the wind has come
up     you are gone inside for a moment     outside wrapped in a towel your friend is asleep     
the tide approaches softly
 
YOU have gone to greet ME at your door

welcome to Ibiza
we have wine and sobrasada
let me put away the paints

Emily Bernhardt

Emily Bernhardt is retired from numbers and Los Angeles. She lives in Ventura, CA and practices poetry, gardening and yoga.