Sunday 15th May 2011, A. Palmer
|Photograph copyright Fee Easton 2011, |
reproduced and used with permission via One Stop Poetry
As the clouds gathered around, scheming
to add to the ocean, huddled
from a sun seeming
close to giving up on getting a look in,
the indecision was late.
The salt in the air
teased a tongue to lips repeatedly, whilst winds
chased breezes through a hair
much thinner now than when,
his voyage, he had first meditated.
Visions of triumphing over Poseidon
with measly means,
had been, as age did stride on,
increasingly cut short
with stills of a watery grave.
But when she died,
the final piece of encouragement
the reminder of mortality did provide.
So before the little boat
flaked too much to be saved,
he would venture out,
rusty though resolute,
years of tarrying and counselled doubt
now second-adolescent fearlessness,
to bury his what ifs at sea.
This poem is submitted to One Stop Poetry's One Shoot Sunday, one of many entries based on one of five photo prompts by photographer Fee Easton. Check out the rest.