Life Is Art In Cowichan Bay

Smooth-sanded and oiled,
this marine varnished morning,
the sea still as glass,
Cowichan Bay
reflects the encircling
enchantment of wooden boats,
hand polished and painted,
bright in the early sun.

Reflected mast and boom, cable,
hull, cabin and spar,
still upon the water,
shimmering, a retreating dream,
at once clear and remembered.

From my window
in a cheese and soup shop
on a pier built out over the water,
I see houses on floats
every plank, shutter, and painted planter,
window and wooden latice reflected
in the mirror.

Sea gulls pose
as porcelain angels,
statues of themselves,
on pilings rising from the water,
traditional, well tended
wooden boats, old retiring fishermen,
nuzzle wooden wharves, sleeping
each with his double.