Setting course

 

The ocean stretched out in front of him beckoning that he follow deeper and deeper into the unknown. It’s a different world at sea, a magical vast canvas,

the boat a pencil making invisible lines to somewhere. You feel so small out there going days even weeks without sighting another vessel. The only sound the engine chugging along in a constant melody that you sometimes shut down to take in perfect silence. You never worry about getting lost as the compass and the stars will forever be your guide as you wander into the deepest of blue. After weeks at sea a bird lands on the guard rail announcing to you land is near. Looking around you spot it about three miles ahead. You slowly navigate your boat into a cove where you lay anchor and step off into waist deep cool water. Once on shore it takes a moment to get your land legs back then you proceed to explore what appears to be a small uninhabited piece of paradise. You gather the fruits of the island fresh and bountiful, placing as many as will fit into your cloth sack. A bit further into the landscape the sound of a waterfall beckons you. Shedding your shorts, you dive into the cold water ridding yourself of caked on salt you’ve carried on your being for weeks maybe more. Cleaned and stocked up you wade back to you boat and prepare a meal of fish and fruit washing it all down with clear fresh water. Now as the boat rocks you to sleep you dream of tomorrow and where the tides will take you. You dream about those you said goodbye to months ago waving as you left port knowing you did all you could do over the years and now it was time to set an invisible course because you don’t care where you are heading just that you are.

Dusty wooden box

 

A small wooden box sat on his dresser. A dust collector except for the times he noticed it and rubbed it clean with the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. He would open it and smile at his treasures collected over time, each object a memory of his life. A red pocket knife his dad gave him on his tenth birthday. He later learned his dad had ordered it out of the sears catalog. That knife turned sticks into spears and sliced countless apples. A constant reminder that he was armed in case of alien attacks. There was a picture of Christ on the cross a holy card given to him by his mom telling him to hold onto it and pray when he felt the need. He couldn’t count the times he did just that. There was a silver dollar his grandpa gave to him the day he graduated from high school telling him his first dollar was free but those to follow would not come so easy. A small cloth bag holding six marbles that he played with as a boy. Each time he saw them he was reminded of childhood friends who faded away over time, but the memories stayed with him always. There were a couple military ribbons he earned while in the navy and a medal he didn’t talk about too much. A lock of his wife’s hair, a baby bootie and a worn-out leather wallet he carried for most his adult life. Closing the old box on the dresser he looked into the mirror and realized all the years he’s been on this earth amount to a dusty wooden box filled with one mans treasures and he was ok with that.

I wept once more

 

A FLEETING SCENT OF LAVENDER OR MAYBE LILAC FILLS MY SENSES BRIEFLY BUT MEMORABLY.A DISTANT SMILE COMES INTO VIEW ONLY TO BE ERASSED BY THE HORN OF AN APPROACHING TRAIN. STANDING IN OUR FAVORITE SPOT ON THE BANKS OF THE MIGHTY NIAGARA I REACH FOR YOUR HAND AND FOR AN INSTANT I FEEL YOU AND MY LEGS GROW WEAK. THERES A CHILL IN THE OCTOBER AIR AS I REACH INTO MY POCKET AND FIND THE TINY PACKAGE IVE BEEN WAITING TO SHARE WITH YOU. A HALF SMOKED CIGARETTE WITH YOUR LIPSTICK ON THE FILTER, A MATCH BOOK FROM YOUR FAVORITE RESTAURANT AND A WHISP OF YOUR HAIR HELD TOGETHER WITH A PIECE OF RED RIBBON YOU USED TO WEAR .I TOOK AN IMAGINARY PUFF OF THE CIGARETTE AND OFFERED IT TO YOU JUST LIKE WE DID SO MANY TIMES.I HELD ONTO THE MATCH BOOK RUBBING MY FINGERS ACROSS ITS SURFACE REMEMBERING YOUR LAUGHTER AND CONTAGIOUS SMILE ACROSS THE TABLE.CLOSING MY EYES I PUT YOUR WHISP OF HAIR TO MY NOSE TAKING IN WHAT WAS LEFT OF YOUR SMELL AND AFTER THIRTY THREE YEARS, I WEPT ONCE MORE.