Gustavo’s Rite
He walked onto the harbor beach at sunset,
planting a small net on a pole like a guidon,
and setting soiled cloth bags around it.
Alone on the beach he began his dance.
Mismatched clothes flapping, he swayed,
then paced, then crouched to pat the sand
into a crescent, then stepped back and back,
dug sand by hand, finding black things
and tossing them into a jumbled pile .
He stepped easily, as if riding waves,
moving in erose shapes only he knew.
Then he gathered net and bags and left,
not glancing back at the cairn
of burnt wood and asphalt fragments.
All this I watched from a restaurant deck,
and had to ask the waiter about him.
“Gustavo,” he said, shrugging, “a local character.”
I nodded but kept silent, recalling that morning
walking another beach, trying to feel profound.
Categories:
gustavo, allusion, beach, emotions, imagination,
Form: Free verse
Old Hymn How great thy art by Mr. Carl Gustavo Baberg
'Consider the world's hands have made.
I see stars I hear the rolling thunder.'
Watching the river run.
It moves swiftly thru life.
It shines with the sun.
It shines with the sun.
It flows around stones.
Nothing stops it's progressive movements.
Fallen branches may become stones.
Fallen branches may become stones.
Inspired by its persistence.
It glistens along it's journey.
Her inhabitants count on its resistance.
Her inhabitants count on its resistance.
Categories:
gustavo, river,
Form: Rhyme