Difficult to go back to the island you came from,
knowing its boundaries have shifted, sediment’s been stirred
by salt’s relentless progress, till little remains
precisely in position of the soil you walked upon,

But if you insist on taking that route home,
there are chants and incantations, timeless refrains
which you must remember to recite, old words 
that will lift your feet, enabling them to step on tracks of foam

Trailing in the wake of ferries, fishing boats
speeding to your harbour. They will allow you to go back
but only if you’re certain this is exactly where you want to float.
Otherwise, take your charts out to ensure you’re guided by exact

Remembrance. You may find out the island’s 
not where you want to go.

A work in progress reproduced with kind permission of Donald S. Murray