Hour One

 

I Am

 

I am watching slo-mo years

race by at breakneck speed

on a different stopwatch.

 

I am reflecting myself

as I peak into the Sound.

Tip toe to the edge,

have to watch the kids,

cause it gets deep fast.

 

Orcas come in close,

spout and shrill,

smell like the seaweed

that opens it’s arms

in watery welcome.

 

I am spectator.

I am witness.

 

Where I stand was

under a mile of ice

fifteen thousand years ago.

 

Ice melted,

land rose,

relieved of weight.

 

Footsteps pattered

onto fertile terrain,

islands carved by

icy retreat.

 

I am a witness.

I am a spectator.

 

I am responsible.