The Boat Catcher Poem by Sailing to windward

He gave himself the job.
There was no one else
to wave the boats to their moorings
and take their lines

His broad shiny gold teeth
welcomed the sailors
as if this was his own jetty
built by his hand

“Welcome home my brother”
He hailed all comers;
Matching tongue to flapping ensign
with sunny ease

Dozens of times a day
he made that hot walk,
securing the village’s dreams
to the boat’s lines

He gave himself a job
no one else would do.
A gold plated and vital task,
He made his own