Salmon Poetry

The First Year

That First Year

The world spun on,

same rotation from West to East,

same speed, same seasons

in the same order.

Tides did their usual thing,

waves made their lapping sounds,

seagulls screeched their indignation.

Over in No. 80

small changes were noted:

the kitchen table

listing to one side,

no back and forth

of a conversation

sixty years

in the making.

Elsewhere:

the faint sound of

uillean pipes,

slide guitars,

pianos playing

traditional laments,

and Louis Armstrong

having to remind us

it’s a wonderful world.

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