Farewell to the Bay of Islands
by Laura Dukeshire I
get out of
pavement
my
car and walk across the
to the chain link fence. Carefully
bending the metal edges,
I
squeeze through
the small opening that has been here ever
since
I
can remember. Free of the rusty
netting, I
climb up and over the
until I stand near the
flat
rocks
edge of the mountain
watching the dawn break over the bay. breeze rustles the stunted trees. the sting of sulfur
I
A
can feel
from the paper mill on my face and taste the ocean
salt
on
my
lips.
The sunbeams gently finger ripples
on the water and squint *^hrough