Ferry Rats

These men grease, torch, drill, and jigsaw
the ferry engines back to life
so that the world might again run on time.

Diamonds in rough boots and grubby life jackets,
they preserve for us the jeweled movement
of appearances.

I mumble greetings each morning
in the early darkness – 5, 5:30
as they drift from their cars to the docks

and they mumble back
as if we both know they are not to be seen
or their world acknowledged.

An arc weld for sunrise.
Below decks, 
hungry motors growl. 

Miz Quickly