At Sea

Waves, that’s what they reminded me of lying there in their sad, rusty decline. Forgotten in time. A fine, misty rain blew in my eyes, my shirt clung slickly to my back, and I imagined them on some old cargo ship, riding shadowy, storm driven waves. How did they end up there, middle of nowhere, so far from the sea. How many years, decades, have passed since they’ve been home.

Maybe I’ll go and visit them again someday, possibly as an old man, hopefully with that same misty rain stinging my eyes.


4 responses

  1. Very romantic and nostalgic!

    December 8, 2011 at 9:15 am

  2. Sic transit gloria mundi… Very good evocation. At times, we can find ourselves in this place…

    December 8, 2011 at 11:37 am

  3. “She was 15 years old and she’d never seen the ocean / She climbed into a van with a vagabond / And the last thing she said was “I love you mom” / And a little rain never hurt no one” (Tom Waits)

    Monochromatic waves & a wild ride on a wild ocean. Getting lost & being discovered. Change & somehow staying the same. All the contradictions of life in one great story & three excellent compositions, my friend! Unsettling & beautiful. Absence & right into the heart all at the same time. Loks good, feels better, man.

    All the best & safe travels, Fritsch.

    December 8, 2011 at 1:03 pm

  4. Wow, this is setting good standard, JP! >>> you’re mellowing with age – how old are you now, did I hear 97???

    But, to be serious, which I often find a decided strain, this is excellent. The pictures are really very good, and the words – which I assume are your’s – fit them exactly >>> “A fine, misty rain blew in my eyes, my shirt clung slickly to my back…” >>> good stuff! Your project is going well!

    And if we’re talking about words – and to shamelessly plug my own blog! – there are 3 of my tweets at top right on my blog >>> have a look at them today, there are a couple there that you might appreciate.

    One again, excellent post! Adrian

    December 11, 2011 at 8:48 am

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