Initial Draft

I know the ferry has left the dock
from the engine churn and car-shimmy,
but I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the seagulls playing dip-tag in the wind.
My view is blocked mid-ship row
by taller vans and stenciled warnings
on high metal walls. But I know we move
through the wake by the buffeted hair
and flapped-open jackets of those
who walk the car deck steel canyon.


5-5-01

The first draft seems incomplete, so a focus for the narrator is added:

First Revision

Though I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the gulls playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the engine churn and shimmy of cars.


Mapping the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked mid-ship row
by taller vans and stenciled warnings;


but I know we move through the wake
by the buffeted hair and flapped-open jackets
as I walk the car deck canyon.


10-12-01

A few more minor changes:

Second Revision

Though I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the gulls playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


Mapping the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked mid-ship row
by vans and stenciled warnings
not to smoke or start engines;


but I know we move through the wake
by buffeted hair and flapped-open jacket
as I walk this canyon deck
heavy with the smell of diesel
and echoing yawls from shiphands.


10-28-01

The sequence of action is changed by making the second strophe now the first:

Third Revision

Having mapped the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked mid-ship row
by vans and stenciled warnings;


and though I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the gulls playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


It moves through the wind's wake, my hair
buffeted and jacket flapped open
as I stand on this canyon deck heavy
with the smell of diesel and brine,
and echoing yawls from shiphands.


10-30-01

Adding something new:

Fourth Revision

Having mapped the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked mid-ship row
by vans and stenciled warnings
on high metal walls;


and though I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the gulls playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


It moves through the wind's wake, my hair
buffeted and jacket flapped open
as I stand on this canyon deck heavy
with the smell of diesel and brine,
and echoing yawls from shiphands.


The ferry crisscrosses the Sound
on schedule, northbound and back
again. And then again. I'll note its departure
in my rearview mirror, passing cars
that wait to board.


10-31-01

Rearranging:

Fifth Revision (AGH!)

Ferries crisscross the Sound
on schedule, southbound and back
again. And then again.


Having mapped the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked mid-ship row
by vans and stenciled warnings
on high metal walls;


and though I can't see the pylons
as a point of reference
or the gulls playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


It moves through the wind's wake, my hair
buffeted and jacket flapped open
as I stand on this canyon deck heavy
with the smell of diesel and brine,
and echoing yawls from shiphands.


I'll note the next lading in my rearview
mirror, passing cars that wait
to board northbound.


11-11-01

Blech. Heh. Time to backtrack and kill some darlings:

Sixth Revision

Having mapped the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked by vans
and stenciled warnings on high metal walls;


and though I can't use the pylons
as a point of reference or watch gulls
playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


It moves through the wind's wake, my hair
buffeted as I stand on this canyon deck heavy
with the smell of diesel and brine,
and echoed yawls from shiphands.

The ferry crosses the Sound
on schedule, then back again.
I'll note its departure
in my rearview mirror, passing cars
that wait to board.


12-10-01

Bling! Not wanting to clobber the reader over the head, the final strophe is dropped:

Current Version

Having mapped the quadrants of his face
before the widening of pier and hull,
my view is now blocked by vans
and stenciled warnings on high metal walls;


and though I can't use the pylons
as a point of reference or watch gulls
playing dip-tag in the wind,
I know the ferry has left the dock
from the churn below and shimmy of cars.


It moves through the wind's wake, my hair
buffeted as I stand on this canyon deck heavy
with the smell of diesel and brine,
and echoed yawls from shiphands.


12-10-01

Donna Smith