Standing in the kitchen
As my morning coffee perks into being,
I watch as the ship passes Mount Baker
On its way to Seattle and wonder:
Who’s on board?
Where are they from,
And what’s in their containers?
How long have they been at sea,
And don’t they miss their families?
And do their hearts still thrill
To the pink sun on the mountain
And the way the colors echo in the water,
Or has the long journey jaded their reactions?
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