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.

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.
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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!

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