He points across my shoulder, my eyes follow arthritic fingers, knotted hand, brawny arm, then toward the weathered face, staring seaward
Old man knowing, showing, stingray, no tail, dark shadow, magnified blue water, jetty rotted crumbling
Childhood memories, seventy years before, sea, salt, fish in harbour, shallow water quickly drops to dark deep beyond, stretches ocean bound
A stingray moves close, seen by eager eyes that know the secrets of the sea, familiar landscape, yacht’s in distance, boats moored still
Seaweed, smelly fish in buckets, fresh ocean breeze wafts the shore, stingray moves beyond, deep blue beckons, the old man watches…
Stingray, no tail
So much for the senses in this piece and so evocative.
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Underneath runs memories of sunburn, fish and chips, ‘old man and sea’ and the rhyming has a dash of playground chant. I like it very much.
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