At Lewes

we sidestepped insignias
like hallowed things
but didn’t buy tickets,

opting to watch the bay
as the ferry shrunk into the cape;
seventeen miles was trivial.

We didn’t consider
the metaphor of shallow displacement
or the freedom in rising tides,

only impending deaths,
that rudderless wind,
and the scope of a moment

in silence.

Image credit:Spencer Dahl

Hugh does not prefer to talk about himself in the third person; if he did, he'd tell you he's in a self-imposed exile on the east coast of the USA but still loves his former home in the Sonoran Desert. His first book, Auditions For The Afterlife, was released in May of 2016.