Southwest Harbor

The roads have closed for flooding. 
The rows of cars are marbled in a mist. 
Watching gulls dive-bomb 
the waves behind the pier, the only thing 
that’s left for me is gratitude. 
Thank you for this. 
Thank you for the landscape
that’s not yet turned to dust, 
the wet gusts filled with clumsy birds 
and hints of sunlight,
and me, soaking wet as well, 
allowed by the grace
of what flesh
to watch.




What Now, by Jacob Griffin Hall