Old Man

Cruel master fled, joy lost,

the old remember youth,

linger in anecdote,

half celebrate the past

but find it gone - crossed

the dangerous sand bar

in a Victory yacht

at too high tide

in a force six gale,

chancing it with rudder

swinging out of water,

they surf into harbour

tie up for the night.

Old men laugh, hurt

by what they did

or failed to do,

taste exotic fruit

caring for self

mainly for self

watch shadows on the wall

figures flickering behind

in a vortex of sea,

they turn and twist

may even write, paint

or speak to recreate

pain felt, those lost.

Calligraphy of age

compensates not for

missing the mystery

incising line and shape

with shaking hand and head,

old tin can at heel.

©Terry Hodgson2020