Early tide

‘Between the sea and me
There is no degree
Of separation …’
He paints the blue ketch
Alongside the wharf,
Bare feet on wooden deck
Solid, certain, matter of fact.

A small group attracted
Watches attentively from above.
Fathers, as though knowing, point
At stowed sails, ropes, anchor
And wide eyed kids soak it in
Yearning that the world be theirs
Yet tied to the shore by family cares
And a web of obligations …

‘I head out tomorrow.
Come and see me off if you like …’
They stroll down after breakfast
but he’s gone, pier empty, berth vacant.
He’d caught the early tide
And the wings of the morning
To sail down the bay and on his way.

In his element, peace and solitude
He sets a course far out to sea
He skips the waves and carries with him
His invisible crew, their dreams set free.


John McCallum