February in Port Townsend

I would say to my daughter remember the day we looked for the moon? How you found it in the alder trees and said it's trying to go up in the sky. We shared some food by a window. An old woman touched your hair. The sea ducks rose and disappeared, one boat sailed out from the land. We thought how good to be there, the ones on the boat. It was dusk on quiet water -- how good to be on the water, the land deep and green. And what would they say? And what would they need at all? It was one dusk we had, but time ran on with the quiet of water and land, the one small boat.