Dawn breaks slow on wooden planks and wire
Shutter clicks I frame the trace of tide
No horns blow no engines breathe in fire
Just me and kelp where passengers once cried
I walk the dock where ferries used to sail
My camera catches light on rusted rail
No passengers just mist and morning oil
I'm just a gardener of salt and soil
Tomato vines climb trellis in my pack
Roots remember dirt beneath my nails
But here the gulls cry sharp and don't look back
I track the wrack where morning light unveils
I walk the dock where ferries used to sail
My camera catches light on rusted rail
No passengers just mist and morning oil
I'm just a gardener of salt and soil
Flash catches rust on bollard chain and cleat
Negative space where tires used to groan
Each frame a proof I was here complete
The dock don't care what seeds I've sown
I walk the dock where ferries used to sail
My camera catches light on rusted rail
No passengers just mist and morning oil
I'm just a gardener of salt and soil
I hunt a shot of green on grey steel deck
A sprout a leaf proof life don't ask permission
But only salt spray writes its quiet check
On lens and rail a blurred transmission
Salt crusts the shutter soil cakes the sole
Two worlds don't mix they just collide
But in the overlap I find my role
No map no master just the turning tide
The ferry comes at seven right on time
I fold my tripod wipe the dew from glass
My greenhouse waits the tomatoes climb
I'll catch the next low tide let this one pass
I walk the dock where ferries used to sail
My camera catches light on rusted rail
No passengers just mist and morning oil
I'm just a gardener of salt and soil
Salt and soil salt and soil
Shutter closes dawn breaks full and whole
Only salt and soil remain
