Ghosts - The Fisherman Poem by Paul Warren

The sun was peeping from the sea
As sleep that night could not be for me
So I took my leave of my Hotel bed
And wandered along the pier as if I was led

The colours of the day bleed into the scene
As I walked I thought of things that had been
I saw him standing leaning on the rail at the end
With his pipe in his mouth looking out as if to blend

The day beginning as he attended his line in the water
So I asked how was the fishing at this time ought a
He looked at me and said that time would tell as in all things
All you need is to think it through and you will have the good that life brings

The conversation petered out and we stared as the sun rose in its way
And the warmth of this new sun greeted the summer's bright day
I nodded to him and I walked back to the shore line and now
As I stepped onto the road the fisherman had vanished as I wondered how.

© Paul Warren Poetry