Dear quiet fire blazing,
like a Seafair sun high above
Salish tides. Light. Ferries cross
waves of it, while gray gulls fly
and cry out and ride with such ease
your air rivers. Salted. I inhale
this sea. It is me and I am
home again, over and over.
Dear quiet fire blazing,
like a Seafair sun high above
Salish tides. Light. Ferries cross
waves of it, while gray gulls fly
and cry out and ride with such ease
your air rivers. Salted. I inhale
this sea. It is me and I am
home again, over and over.