the only river on the island
is a stream

now a restored herring run
so many warm days and nights

so close / so dammed
by the time I first crawl

in the sand
10 miles down island

take the Middle Road
it crisscrosses beneath

when did I discover
the real Martha / which one

what did she do
with all this dry land

amid so many streams

from an open window
to a parked station wagon

I wave as we wait
to drive onto the ferry

to leave the mainland behind
45 minutes across the sound

to be amid them again