Wordsworth's Ridge (for Fran Fike)

A summer night I find a boat Tied to a tree A normal home She lost her string I'm stepping in I push the shore there An act of stealth A troubled glad without a voice A mountain song, the boat moves on The water runs on either side The circle swell, a sudden light Takes me I fix my view Upon the ridge Horizon's eye Above the gray sky I tip my oar to raise the stroke The wading swan, the image broke A looming peak, a pirate size Uprears its head, a sudden guise Takes me