Yet Another Newburyport Waterfront

That’s right: another morning at the waterfront (I titled the posting as such to warn off readers who’ve already had their fill, unlike me) means another variation on a theme. This morning, while looking at the hundreds of sailboats moored up and down the harbor, I noticed a red sailboat in a sea of white sailboats.

The Red Sailboat

Nothing but our viewpoint is depending
on this bright red sailboat in the harbor—
every other boat is white or off-white.
Even haze reflects the river, colored
like a stainless steel incinerator
burning off the ashes of a sovereign
midnight independent of some bright red
sailboat. Daylight is a different story.
Things would fly apart, an anchor windlass
letting go: the Route One span drives westward
searching for suspense to ease its drawbridge;
Jimmy Buffet imitates the Great Plains;
glacial sand deposits gather interest
and continue on their trip to Mexico.

It wasn’t especially imposing. Other boats were bigger. Other boats were closer. Its mast wasn’t especially impressive either. Yet it caught my eye and wouldn’t let it go.

And, of course, apologies to William Carlos Williams.