Red Boat Man By Jan Leree

Photo: Jan Leree Whidden
The storms had left their marks
On the red boat man.
He used to go down
Where the docks meet up
With water, earth and land
He rode the winds
With gusto...
His skin shone,
Leather mix, sweat & tan...

I knew he was no one's
To be tethered, torn
Or abandoned.
He was rugged,
cast iron and free.
Only God...
Over him,
had domnion.
Isn't that how...
It's supposed to be?

View Jan's Word Art for this poem

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