The slack painter
From the boat moored
on the other side of the window
it is one step
to your pillow.
Even the room is tethered
and drifting in absolute
night breath.
There are lamps afloat
on the verandah.
Mackerel sip the light –
you hear their mouthings
stir the water
a step away.
You imagine the harbour;
and then you add the boat,
the slack painter.