Staten Island Ferry

"Your Heaven"

4pm

The afternoon rush

It's that time

Hold on to your bags, phones, food

Prepare for the bustling line

We're all going the same way

In those few minutes we're one

While the young teens run for the seats you're after

I decide to stand with you in the sun

While elderly reminisce on their youth

Newly weds, young lovers embrace, no care for the audience

Children forget safety, run around as they always do

I befriend nature, soaking it in

I watch your hair blow, as we pick up speed

Reaching out to the wave as if its a need

This is your moment, your little piece of heaven

How lucky I am to share it

Your eyes closed, you only want to hear

the secret of the waves, like a seashell held to your ear

All chaos is silenced, at least in your mind

You don't notice the crowd, me, or the time

Smell of salt awakens your senses,

like when the bomb drops near the soldier in the trenches

You grab hold of me, as if to own it,

but its your time, your heaven, your moment

The alarm goes off

Everything stops

Your hair falls flat

Smile drops

You ask 'is it over'

I don't wanna reply

My silence answers you

Then you cry

Workers yell 'everybody off'

I grab your hand

We quickly walk

You're back now

home

20 minutes from Your Heaven

Written by,

Chelsea Norton