Local Shaman
I tell the diesel mechanic, Bill,
The Starfisher’s engine is cutting out
due to a hole in a line,
a torn flange in the pump,
or a shot of bad fuel.
His instructive silence says
my labyrinth mind
must fall through a trap door
to a fishing memory
on the Siletz River
where Coyote,
in his butterfly-colored beads,
laughs like Chaplin
directing Limelight
or a man in a rowboat
before there were roads.
--Scott Starbuck
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