Just Sitting

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Whilst sitting at a the Moulin Huet Tea Rooms listening to some excellent live music, I looked out over the bay below and saw a lone skier.

I had been trying to write a poem about the music, but ended up with this one instead. I hope you like it.

Just Sitting

The bay laid out below
Rhibs, gin palaces, dinghies
their blue and white hulls
a uniform, reflected in the still water.
Further out a wakeboarder
wipes out, again.
I feel their frustration,
I know that frustration,
and knowing...

For there was a time...

There was a time
when I would cut the wake,
my rooster tail danced
from side to side,
a curtain of diamonds
which chased me
and Illuminated my life.

The boat curves gently
it's serpentine wake
envelops the skier,
returns the rope;
and building speed
the dance begins again,

and I,

I watch from my chair
with a tear in my eye.

John Carré Buchanan
21 June 2014