Remembering A Channel Crossing Poem by Joseph Martin III

If you have ever been aboard a ship,

no, not a boat on a lake on a lazy Sunday,

but a real ship with decks on a sea or ocean,

perhaps then you have stood alone and stared

out from one of those decks to that flat grey desert.

No one else around but you and no sounds but those

of the endless, ceaseless lonely waves.



If you have ever done this

then you might know the feeling.



Older now and landlocked,

cigarette smoke rises and dissipates

like so many possibilities.