Where Love Is Air

—Kathleen Gunton

Aqueous light traps the cruise

ship off Icy Strait Point.

The ship’s log is knotted

in time. Last one on

the tender, you gladly endure

salt water and wind for this

gift of passage, wave’s end.

A rusty chain, half-hung lock

an open gate. You walk

where love is air

letting go memory

of all other ports.

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