2

Who knew a canoe?

Who found a forest?

Came around a cape

with a tanker full of regret

and spilt it on paper

where we’d written

“over my dead body”

promises we keep

along coasts we defend

We wont refuse

what we see and know
because we see and know

what it is that we refuse—

the money from trees

and the money from soil

no one can exchange

for the flesh of salmon

the flesh of songs too

And this little window

I found in your boat—

lighthouse computer screen or eye—

it’s watching from promontories

and running for river mouths too

though you don’t need a weather man

to know which way the oil flows

or a pilot to show you

the long teeth of jagged inlets