Tuesday, July 18, 2023

The Last Dive

Clumsily struggling to water’s

Edge with his stick helping,

He looked out at the rock

Promontories and imagined

The perch and opaleye.

Nearly falling he snatched

A handful of sand, standing,

Letting it fall through his 

Fingers, he remembered

Susan at the tiller while

He shortened sail

On the way to

Long Point in a 

Stormy sea.

He had dropped over

The side and speared 

Some fish they had no

Appetite  to eat, 

Swinging as they 

Were at anchor

In that angry sea.

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