River Boats

moored hulls sink lower in a rising haze as ghost ships they slowly surface when the sky finds a patch of clarity again and again the vessels slip in and out of the mist only to come back painted by distant seas farther horizons that ship deep-sea spume over anchored hulls wet ropes creak rigging rattles as a foaming fog washes over prows unseen gulls call summoning visions of whitecaps last seen in a shipwrecked china teacup