Rusty Hulls And Blue Water Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

There's something both lonely and exciting
on first seeing tied up at the dock a boat
you've signed on for the shipping season
on the Great Lakes

It might be a boat with rusty hull stained
and dented lying at rest tethered by steel
hawsers to a loading dock outside
a foundry in Superior, Wisconsin

You hoist lumpy duffel onto your shoulder
and negotiate the shaky ladder to the deck
making your way forward to crew quarters
housed below the whitewashed pilot house

There's something about casting off lines
and feeling the engines vibrating underfoot
as the boat slowly moves into the dark blue
waters of Lake Superior outbound

The boats are gone now and life aboard
just a dream that recurs now and again