Let’s pretend we’re sleeping on the ship’s deck
chairs. We whisper, and imagine the evening
growing colder. Above those tangerine cliffs in the
distance, kissed to their heady blush by the sun,
were clouds moving in shoals. The Chugach
Mountains peak into the sky, their snow capped
crests make it appear as if a storm looms. And
the sky, mixed with equal parts blue and a chorus
of grays, streaked with silvers and golds. We
stand against the railing, notebook and pen in hand,
jotting down the movements. I grab your shoulder
as the boat tilts and wavers gracefully
with the current below. Both your hands stay
folded upon the camera, going nowhere, calm
and now almost invisible, as if they were the first
to grasp the distance and dissolve. You press
the button. A quick click and then lays it down,
Your limbs earn a well deserved rest. You hold
up your hand and my hand matches yours, making
a noise loud enough to temporarily quiet
the galling wind that refuses to let down.
Tiny birds will soar adrift negotiating each wind
shift, and there we stand wondering how
a thing so small can fly against the wind at all.
Jay Aggarwal is a 17 year old, aspiring writer based in San Francisco, California. Jay dreams of majoring in journalism. He has won the poetry competition at his high school and writes for his school newspaper. He loves hiking and has always been fascinated by nature.