Islands

The boat won’t go in the choppy waters, he yells from across the bow. A storm moves in from the west, floods the little city on the coast. We run to a bus instead, drag bags to a car barge and find another bus to take us to the edge of the island. Here it is, the endless sea, rages against itself, against cliffs and houses that have weathered its incessant tumult, you cannot ruffle the inhabitants here. No man is an island, but these people know what it takes to be one, they remain steadfast. The food is delicious, the hostel quiet on a cold august evening. In town, the festival begins. Do you remember when it began? You heard Regina Spektor revel from the other side of the woods. 

Do you remember who you were then? It seems impossible, now, to imagine. So young, so full of why does everything happen across the other side of the woods. I’ve come a long way since then. 

I have so far still to go. 

When they ask you to have a home you say, take a deep breath, remember how you know me. I am a heart full of woods, I am a life full of one day I will go through it, 

And sometimes that day

is today.