Solitary Sailor

I wrote this the Summer of 1992

He sits there for a while, watching her at rest.
She is so beautiful…tall and sleek, with curves
in just the right places. She excites him so,
when she runs with the wind. And when she
takes him dancing gracefully through the soft
breezes he is at peace with the world, and himself.

There are times when he has to go long periods
without her. He lives for the hours he can spend
with her. He works to support her because of the
joy she gives him. He takes care of her with
gentle affection. She is the only love he wants in
his life. She never asks for anything, never nags,
never frightens him with feelings of love expressed.
She doesn’t have a heart that breaks.

They never go home together after spending time
together. They never walk, hand in hand, never
share a meal, an evening by the fire, a swing on
the porch, the day’s frustrations or joys, a kiss
or a hug. They cannot fall asleep in each others
arms, nor wake to a good morning kiss.

As much as she means to him, she is after all…
only a sailboat…no flesh and blood. No caring heart
ready to be beside him always…loving him in return.

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