I don’t see what makes you think
It’s going to work out. It shows no sign
Of doing any such thing.

You always cry here we go, we’re
Underway, it’s moving,
when the most
Charitable observer could tell you the water
Is stagnant, the boat is leaking, what you take
For movement is the shudder that precedes collapse.

Yet there you are
So sure, so filled with rapture,
It’s almost as if the brackish water shivers,
As if looking at you the shaft of light
You kept insisting was there in fact has fallen
Across your cheek, across the battered deck,
And look, it’s setting off, the ship is surging
Into the surf, just as you said it would.

New York
spring 2018

Emily Bayard Blake teaches Writing and Literature at SVA. She is an actress and writer, and has a theatre studio in Paris, France: theatredelasolitude.com. She would like to thank her students and colleagues for their amazing work all through this extraordinary time.