The Boy at the Bow

Being blessed with
Internal fortitude,
I never had to worry
About getting seasick.
Consequently,
As a young boy
Of six or seven
On my first
Deep sea fishing trip,
I stationed myself
At the bow
Where the boat’s motion
Was the most dramatic.
There I was
Perpetually gazing outward,
Relishing the taste
Of the wet, salty air,
With the sea wind
Blowing in my face,
Excitedly watching
And experiencing
The boat’s battle
With the ocean swells.
I can imagine
The silly look of ecstasy
I must have had
Plastered on my face
As I dreamed
Of someday sailing
Those waters.