Raymond A. Foss Poems

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I really did feel bad afterward;
but at that instant, I was confused
sorry, not knowing what to say
He was a perfect subject
tanned, craggy, of the sea.

He was hot, tired,
and oh so angry
with me
at that moment,
the bane of his existence
the one too many straws
on his aching back

One too many tourists
trying to capture the essence
of his time and place
with a picture of him
without permission
on the back of his ship
in the harbor
after the end of a hard day
in his yellow slicker

It wasn’t the concern of some
the fear of losing one’s soul
by the taking of the picture
No this was an older argument
his rights to be alone
why he went to the sea in the first place
away from the crowd in the city, the streets
he was of the sea, ready for the quiet
the fight for the catch
not the bustle of a tourist trap
the changing of his island
fighting his fight
to remain independent
sure of his own place
without another damn picture.

July 19, 2006 18:18

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