||| BY BRIAN LEONARD |||
Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the isles
Travelers were wondering if the ferries would be a trial
The reservations were made months in advance
But being on time was subject to chance
The ferries were nestled all tight to the docks
Waiting to be filled with the patient flocks
I in my Carharts, Grandma in her wool
Also hoped the ferries would be timely and full
But alas as we were watching the live ferry tracker
We realized that there was something the matter
All of the ferries had stopped moving – frozen in time
Impossible! They couldn’t all stop on a dime!??
It had finally happened – they all gave up the ghost
It was the moment we had all feared the most
Our ferries were too decrepit – none leaving the coast
Availability of crew doesn’t really matter
If our evergreen ships have all lost their swagger
I knew in that moment, hope was far away
And no hero would appear, with reindeer and sleigh
Our guests would not arrive we’d all be sad
Mourning the glory days of the ships that we’ve had
“Dear Tillikum and Yakima! Chelan and Samish!
Poor Calthamet! and Sealth! And Spokane and Salish!
From Tacoma in the south to the San Juans in the north
We’ll miss your statuesque back and forth”
As our state lets you perish as piles of rust
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