Poem #5 of the 30/30 challenge for Poetry Month. (April 5)
Leaning into the Wind
I sat in the café at the marina,
watching him make his way
to the place they keep fishing boats.Bent forward like a man struggling
against a gale, he edged toward the
still water hidden beneath a cream fog.Black leather gloves tugged at
his coat collar, seeking shelter for
his neck from the icy morning.Wisps of white straw spilled
from the fisher’s cap pulled low,
shelter from the morning sun.The man’s gait and leather face
told of a weathered lifetime behind
him, with little left undone.He reached the wharf and
crouched at a dockside bench
as if leaning into the wind.When the harbor emptied of boats, he
pulled himself upright, and threw a kiss to
the empty water and waved goodbye.
