The young man stands on the Salt Run pier,

Facing east, waiting for the sun to rise

From just below the horizon.

While he waits, the last of the morning mist

Still clings to the eastern dunes,

And nearby, two ketches are moored

In water that lies still, for the tide has only now

Begun its slow outgoing pull.

Soft pastel light spreads across the surface,

Doubling the hulls, masts, and rigging,

.

The two boats show their sterns now

As the tide’s pull strengthens.

It is as if they are struggling to break free,

As if, once freed, they would come about,

Raise their sails and make their way

To the inlet and out to sea,

Free to roam the coast at their leisure.