David Brown Poet Free verse

Point of View

The old man sits on a bench in 
the late afternoon sun 
his walker nearby,
his little dog, 
nearer 

Sunday, 
the last day of summer
they watch the line up of trucks 
coming to retrieve their
boats from the water
as the sun crawls
towards the sea

Like the tide, 
the same people who 
lined up in the morning to launch their boats,
now line up in the afternoon to retrieve them 

Someone says to the old man, 
they must truly love their boats

The old man replies, 
once, I loved my boat
 
I remember being on the water in the sun,
breathing the sea air, feeling the wind
and the spray of the water on my face,
feeling the force of the waves, 
the pull on the heart to the open sea

Feeling the anticipation
of the day, the chance of it all,
the good and the bad;
dry feet or wet clothes,
an empty net,
or a full belly

And the freedom
Oh, the freedom
 
I haven't been on a boat in so long,
that I can't even remember 
when it was, son 

I miss it so, but I'm happy
just that I loved it once

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