.
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.
.
The sun now risen,
He walks back to the car.
He best be on his way to work.
He holds an image of a ketch in his mind,
It is as if he is standing at its wheel,
As if he is steering it
toward the inlet and out to sea,
Free to roam the coast at his leisure.
..
