The timbers rise out of the bay
On a clouded, sunlit morning
Reflection’s pier in the water
An old weather-worn shack
Five white windows to see the day
The seagull dips and glides
Slow-motion
This photograph makes
A stop of time
I want to get off
Walk the platform
Drop my line in the water
And wait
Watch, the sun’s slow
Mount from valley to crest, hear
The wind telling tales:
Of wise old men
And the daunting sea.
(Previously published in Blue Fifth Review, Summer 2003)
Excellent, Laurence, first rate! You rarely see this quality of poetry.
I love the way you 'painted' this scene....I've spent many a day on the docks and this brings back some cool memories!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful imagery, Each new day is a gift.. An excellent poem. Kind regards, Sandra