Islander idly rumbles
in her slip
calmly churning in the
dying light
A silent figure walks up
the tilted auto ramp
familiar in the foggy glow
past the quiet crew
no fare is due
he bravely steps
on board
The pin is set
the rudder fast
the great curved doors
jacked, wheeled back
thump into place
The Islander slips away
her double ended nose
turns to port and sniffs
the rocky way
into the challenge
the tide race
of Vineyard Sound
Seabirds cackle in her deep
yet gentle wake
Misty darkness folds over
Nobska’s headland
off her beam
Bells toll their herald gongs
leaning in fair tide
The ship’s light
cocoons the deck
in mystic glow
Merging with the darkening night
the quiet figure
moves among the scattered crowd on board
Distinctive high and frizzy hair
sleight curve of back
piercing thoughtful glare
draws sidelong stares
What brings Ron out here
tonight?
 
He climbs the vessel’s stairs
finds the rail and peers
into the sea dark black
around the ship
The profile of familiar land appears
its silhouette seems to rise up in the night
not all that faraway

The wheelhouse door swings
out a jar
an arc of low light beckons
as it fans the upper deck
The friendly pilot slides aside
as Ron glides his hands
towards the twitching wheel
He grips the helm
and feels the subtle grooves
worn from years of steering
the big ship
They match
his own
seasoned lawyer grip
The captain sidles up
shoves Ron a steaming cup
and checks his course
laughing at the risky set of it
As East Chop’s green glow lightly tints their cheeks
the captain moves to
Take his captain seat
He says to Ron
you go ahead and
bring her in tonight

Ron’s smiling as he
nears the land
Friends and family
all at hand
His sage advice
that served us once
in future will it gift us twice
For all his life for Vineyard’s sake
his legacy is the bow wake
Bless you Ron
our honest friend
forever will you steer again