No Regrets

The pirate sits on the dock,

her ancient face a map

upon which the trails of laughter and tears are traced.

As she spins her tale of cutlasses and sea salt,

the enraptured children, who are seated around her,

see the story

played out in her glittering eyes.

Those eyes once gazed on a duke's ransom,

part of which hangs about her neck.

A bit tarnished, but no matter.

The wind toys with her gull-grey hair,

and she brushes it back with a calloused, three-fingered hand.

As she finishes, a small girl reaches up

to touch the crimson feather in the pirate's hat.

The pirate smiles, and her joy is apparent,

for she knows that here is a child

who will follow in her footsteps.

They both laugh—

the child, because she is tickled;

the old woman, because she has lived a free life

and has no regrets.