The old ferry

I am one of those
who cross back and forth
when others want to cross

it takes three cars
or a tractor with a full wagon
and about ten of us
live on the island,
in summer, guests arrive

I remain by the water
while it moves and sings,
the lake never sleeps

the diesel engine answers
puffs and chokes
rattling and clattering

the song goes on
without ambition
or recognition

in ordinary clothing