Fisherman

I really did feel bad afterward; but at that instant, I was confused sorry, not knowing what to say He was a perfect subject tanned, craggy, of the sea. He was hot, tired, and oh so angry with me at that moment, the bane of his existence the one too many straws on his aching back One too many tourists trying to capture the essence of his time and place with a picture of him without permission on the back of his ship in the harbor after the end of a hard day in his yellow slicker It wasn’t the concern of some the fear of losing one’s soul by the taking of the picture No this was an older argument his rights to be alone why he went to the sea in the first place away from the crowd in the city, the streets he was of the sea, ready for the quiet the fight for the catch not the bustle of a tourist trap the changing of his island fighting his fight to remain independent sure of his own place without another damn picture. July 19, 2006 18:18 All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,770+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.