The Old Fisherman

As he sits on a rock by the seashore

The waves ripple on to the beach

Like his memory ebbing and flowing

Pictures come and then go out of reach

 

A far away look in his old grey eyes

Now a frown on his furrowed brow

Trying hard to recall the memories

That elude his mind somehow

 

Snapshots of days on the rolling sea

Young faces of fishermen past

He struggles to keep them fresh in his mind

But his memory wont let them last

 

The days of sail and steam recalled

All the toil of hauling the gear

Weather worn faces and calloused hands

Memories his heart still holds dear

 

The shimmer of herring upon the sea

Bring memories back, as he sighs

Now no one left to share his thoughts

As this moment passes him bye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking rollers crash on the shore

Appearing through the mist in his mind

Running for shelter from winter storms

As a haven they tried hard to find

 

Childhood days quickly come and go

Like a fleeting glance in time

Memories scattered all over the place

Nothing giving him reason nor rhyme

 

Trying to put faces to names he once knew

Gets harder with each passing day

Frustration and longing fills his old heart

But his mind starts to wander and stray

 

Now slowly rising on shaky old legs

Back bent and shoulders hung low

 Tide is now ebbing just like his life

The time has now come to let go.

 

          Jim Campbell