Each day the harbor seems a little
larger and some people suspect
that the water itself is the mother
of all our troubles. Other people
wish to give themselves to the water,
to sail off or kneel into it.
They are solitary people, they do not
usually speak, they do not hang out
anywhere, they don’t even watch
for the news. The harbor is changing
color. It looks like the rainbows
that appear on gas station cement
after a little rain. Still,
it shelters more fish than before.