Erin Mckeown
The Boats
the boats, the boats, my wooden boatswere never meant to drywhat is a boat that cannot floatand rots from air and sky?i nailed a sheet, i named it twicei waited on the spitfor wind, for wind, some kind of windto come and sail with itthis is my boat, my favorite boati built it with my handsand on its shell, my earthly hulli have become a mansome are washed and ground ashoresome get thrown by tidebut this new world of mold and smellit simply drowns my prideand in the wake, i am awakewith no one to take the helmand what i built with labor hardgrows still and soft and calmwe turn the cheek, we try to hopeSongtextefor boats from other shoresand in the end we are alonewho are we to hope for moresome are washed and ground ashoresome get thrown by tidebut this new world of mold and smellit simply drowns my pridethe boats, the boats, my wooden boatswere never meant to drywhat is a boat that cannot floatand rots from air and sky?
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