STARING INTO SPACE
The man sat in the café, holding a pop in his hand,
The food half eaten, he seemed in some far off land,
Where were his thoughts, where was his beating heart?
Not in a crowded café sitting alone and a little apart
From the noise and the laughter and the jollity there,
Alone in a crowd, longing to be far away somewhere.
Was it the call of the sea that ran through him throbbing?
Calling him with the cry of the gull and the wind blowing,
The weather worn face told of sea battles fought and won,
The sadness say that his seafaring days were all done,
You could imagine the sea in his deep grey longing eyes,
Could feel the love of the sea have been his greatest prize?...
I asked if I could sit down for all the tables were full,
He nodded halfheartedly and a chair to the table I did pull,
“Were you in the navy or a merchant seaman?” I did ask.
“A fisherman and merchantman but now I have no task”
He told me of his life from young fisherman to Captain
Of many large vessels, loaded down with cargo deep within.
His grey eyes became alive and dancing as many a tale he told,
Some of distant lands, but most of the sea so strong and bold,
He told me he had not long to live, just once more wanted to be
On the white capped tossing waves on a lively ship out at sea,
Tears came to my eyes, I felt sorrow for the grieving man
And there, into my mind an idea came for a little plan.
A friend had a boat moored in summer on lake Ontario,
I asked if he was willing on a windy day out for a run to go,
I explained my plan, a date was set hoping the wind would blow,
I returned to the café, still like stone he sat his sadness did show,
He managed a smile when he saw me I told him what I had done,
Those words were to him as if some great battle had been won.
We picked him up on a day when the wind blew from the east,
White caps licked the side of the boat like some hungry beast,
He stood at the rail, the wind and spray hard on his old face,
Then the sadness in his whole being changed to majesty and grace,
When we returned to the dock he thanked us and quietly said,
“Now I can die in peace, but have me buried at sea when I am dead.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson June 13, 2003