Photography- Photographer Falco Negenman
Not every crossing needs to be smooth to be worth remembering
Take the small ferry,
not the sealed fast one.
Stand where the deck is damp.
Hold the rail
sticky with salt and old paint.
The engine starts under your feet.
Rope pulls tight.
Wood knocks once against the dock,
then lets go.
No polished soundtrack.
Only gulls, diesel,
water slapping the hull.
By the time you reach the other side,
you have not only crossed distance.
You have felt it—
through metal, spray,
and the brief sway of leaving land.