An Old Boat Poem by Robert Melliard

One day we took an old boat out,
a friend and I, with setbacks one expects
from non-seafaring men.
It took us hours to fit the outboard motor,
remember how it worked
and start it up.

Then, brought close by grief
(his wife had died, as had my brother)
we crossed a wide firth
to a quaint port
with gaily-painted craft.

We ate mussels at the only bar -
drank fruity wine - were overcharged,
as happens in summer.

But we'll remember our adventure:
the bobbing boats; the sunlight;
children fishing from a raft;
or how, while coming back, we saw a dolphin,
and thought how our lost loved ones
would have loved such things.