(Since June, I've had my pen on a commercial fishing boat in South East Alaska, not so urban, but definitely an extension of what the Northwest is and was)
Tinglit tribal leader, Chief Shakes V, lived just long enough to be relieved from the burden of rule first by the Imperial Russians, secondly the British Empire, and then died only ten years after American incorporation. He is buried on the slope of a small hill, from which I sat and drew this old boathouse. Given the latitude, tides are big enough alone to lift large boats up and under these open forms. I think you'd have to be a poet to sit on the boathouse side of the road and think on the grave, rather than the plain frames. For me, the toil of provincial carpenters trump Chiefs, monuments.