This photo was taken with my focus on the sandpipers…a short distance from the Santa Monica Pier, looking seaward from Palisades Park…then this magical boat appeared and I lifted it from an existing photo and inserted it into the aforementioned scene, closed my eyes, and watched Tuesday morning and black coffee unfold…therein was born the story of ‘the blue boat’…
one tuesday morning he simply quit
left his pole in the boat for some other fisherman
perhaps a younger man with fingers still strong
and a gut left for fishing a short distance offshore
sandpipers scurried about as if they had found new purpose
this weather beaten, still sea-worthy vessel looked like heaven
painted like some serenity blue sky on a calm-seas day
with no sign of quitting…until he sat down on that tuesday morning
somehow the smell of coffee caught his senses
and the joy of pulling in a struggling fish was lost in the black
so he walked to the pier and waited
as memories rolled in as frequently as eternity timed waves
was it the day he bought the boat?
perhaps the weekend he painted it?
or when he pulled in that first fish (however small)?
was it the drowning of his troubles for thirty years?
tuesday morning…there was some fishing to do
expediently, his fingers, like his mind, were young again
just a short distance off shore the fish were calling
who needs black coffee when you own a blue boat?