This one is also sort of Western.
It's written up near Sausalito, that village across the bay
from San Francisco.
It's very sentimental.
It's called The Ship.
There is an old man in the back streets
of this inland city, who is building a ship in his yard.
He has it up on a scaffold the full length of the yard.
And he works on it all by himself, after work
and on weekends.
It will end up weighing more tons than the biggest
truck could ever move.
They will just have to break it up after he is dead.
This beautiful ship that he is sailing now
on a great river that leads to the open sea.