Poem: A Sporting Try

P1040328Why do some endure the trials of sport,
While other stand by at the side-lines?

I walk the shore, watching birds,
Then see the surfers drift
Where cormorants should be.

The camera lens captures
Waves building, then cresting,
Rolling foaming over wet-suited men,
Who wait patiently in the New England cold.

P1040354Three, four undulations rise,
Without response, then the next
Wave catches their attention, with two
Surfers positioning themselves for
A ride on their boards.

One gives way to the other,
Who has a better chance of keeping
Ahead of the breaking curl,
Funneling him and his board along.

Six, seven… ten seconds balanced
Across the smooth edge of the wave
Before the spiraling crest,
Consumes the surfer.

P1040337His arms flail, before his head
Falls back behind the wave,
His board jettisoned skyward.

I click the shutter, as sand-burned
Fingers tingle from the cold.

Advertisements

About hermitsdoor

Up here in the mountains, we have a saying, "You can't get there from here", which really means "We wouldn't go the trouble to do that". Another concept is that "If you don't know, we ain't telling." For the rest, you'll have to read between the lines.
This entry was posted in Reflections and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Poem: A Sporting Try

  1. KerryCan says:

    You capture the scene really well! And the ambivalence of the non-surfer for what those guys are out there doing!

This Hermit's Door is Open: Step in & Share Your Opinion

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s