where the sweep of
the harbor tide comes in, I rest
dream, sit on the deck
Based on the poem, Waiting, by Carl Sandburg in Other Days as published in The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, by Carl Sandburg, Harcourt, Brace, New York, 1950.
Today I will let the old boat stand
Where the sweep of the harbor tide comes in
To the pulse of a far, deep-steady sway.
And I will rest and dream and sit on the deck
Watching the world go by
And take my pay for many hard days gone I remember.
I will choose what clouds I like
In the great white fleets that wander the blue
As I lie on my back or loaf at the rail.
And I will listen as the veering winds kiss me and fold me
And put on my brow the touch of the world’s great will.
Daybreak will hear the heart of the boat beat,
Engine throb and piston play
In the quiver and leap at call of life.
To-morrow we move in the gaps and heights
On changing floors of unlevel seas
And no man shall stop us and no man follow
For ours is the quest of an unknown shore
And we are husky and lusty and shouting-gay.
On my first morning bike ride as an Islander …
I pass this way each day that I drive to work.
I would take a photo with my phone held in one hand as I crossed the bridge in the middle of the island.
Now I ride my bike to the edge of the marsh.
I can sit and I will choose what clouds I like.
In the great white fleets that wander the blue.
As I lie on my back or loaf at the rail.
And I will listen as the veering winds kiss me and fold me.
And put on my brow the touch of the world’s great will.
Oh for the life of an islander.
Still working though.
But a lot closer to work.
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