Eventide

I watched the moving silhouette
Of skiff upon the sea,
And fancied that eyes there had met
The silhouette of me.
A flock of birds just passing through
Found rest upon the pier.
All bowed their heads in homage to
The life and longing here.
The sail was shortly taken in.
The boat was lugged ashore.
The gleaming catch was gathered in
Until there was no more.
Some sand crabs crawled along the mast.
The boat did not reprove,
Stuck in the muck of earth too fast
To free itself to move.
Late evening chill was coming on.
High tide was coming in.
While all the rest had long since gone,
The skiff set sail again.

by Laura Poole

Comments (1)

wow. you're such a talented writer. i could never do that. i love the way it sounds, the rhythm of it, the selection of words