In the boat’s wake:
a range of mountains,
arching spine of peaks
and valleys molded
into the pliant sea.

The path forward:
littered with driftwood.


The earth’s anxiety
in the liminal spaces:
maelstrom of birds,
the wind’s long howl,
arrhythmic ocean
swelling and collapsing.


The approaching island:
a collage of canopies
greening over the land,
reaching all the way
down to the shoreline.

Look closer: buildings
spot the landscape, white
like flecks of dandruff.

The docks stretch out
like a scar on the sea.

Matthew J. Andrews is a private investigator and writer from California. He is the author of I Close My Eyes and I Almost Remember, and his poetry has appeared in Orange Blossom Review, Pithead Chapel, and EcoTheo Review, among others. He can be contacted at matthewjandrews.com