Old Man of Undertow - Revisited

I'm moving to a better city, have a better job, and the door is open for anything I desire. The time for excuses has been replaced by a call to action.

a hand shades the eyes of a shriveled man
as he scans the horizon from dry land

the same hand that spanned above the waves
as he waved to and fro from the undertow

waiting for the day he would be delivered
shivering and basking in the sun's harsh glow

he's about to break away to the breaking day
about to walk away from a promise made

to put those hard times on a pedestal
but undertow only knows one way to go

so with one last gasp he broke the grasp
washed up ashore with the waves' last laps

stood afoot with a raspy laugh and
strode barefoot in soggy rags

through thorny brush to a deserted road
knowing the past would have to let go

receding thoughts, they slipped away
as he shimmered in the heat of changing lanes

as he changed in the heat of shimmering lanes
receding waves, they slipped away

 

Author's Note

Oh, foolish me! How naive I was. The old man of undertow can never be free of the sea, for that is who he is. No matter how far he drifts into the mainland, the tide (and his destiny) will pull him back. Doomed to a Sisyphus archetype, but still trying to turn lemons into lemonade. The eternal optimist and pessimist entwined, with seaweed and saltwater pooling in his veins.

I look at this years later and laugh. A rueful, knowing, hopeful laugh.

Reviews

[kris reed]

Love your poem! It's got a nice flow, or current, eh-hmm... tide. It rides along on swelling waters, but under the steering of experienced hands that give a calm, pleasant ride. I like how you play with the same words over again, but with new meaning. I would say though that many people love the sea and are pleasantly trapped by it, on the other hand I've never heard of anyone in love with rolling stones (up hills)... wait a sec, I may be wrong. Anyways, great poem. It seems I'm going to keep enjoying your writing!