I Could Have Been a Contender

The past couple of days I’ve been walking along the Newburyport waterfront before going to work. It’s such an invigorating start to the day: so much sunshine, sailboats, and sparkling water. The only problem is watching the clock and leaving on time. That, and an overwhelming desire to play hooky.

Morning of No Contention

On the waterfront, no Marlon Brando
challenges the river. Sailboats pull no
punches either. Floating like the butter
melting on a toasted English muffin,
sloops slide in the harbor. On the dockside
French Canadians interpret starboard.
Locals gossip with their fishhook language.
In the current, cormorants are diving
underwater, looking for some secret
shipwreck. Sunshine sparkles like a mirror
through the window of some horizontal
steeple. Wind is coasting like a streetcar
named dessert. And lovers from Atlantis
gaze downriver towards an urge of ocean.

But work calls. Well, to be honest, contending and making a living calls. Compensation calls. The urgent world is forever calling. Thankfully, the waterfront will be waiting for my imminent return.