HAVING FUN UNTIL I FIND YOU

It used to be so simple.

The first kid to inhale the scent of salt water
would scream with delight,
when we rode along in father’s ’37 Dodge
on the way to Jones Beach to frolic on Zach’s Bay.

Having fun in later years, happens
when I’m piped aboard my Boston Whaler,
as Captain of the ship.

I hear a rousing chorus of:
“Oh, the ocean waves may roll,
and, the stormy winds may blow…”

My barnacled-covered bow faces a surge
of oncoming waves in wind-driven whitecaps.
I shout seafaring orders: “GET READY TO MAKE READY!,”
and, “PREPARE TO DROP ANCHOR!”

We snorkel for lobsters and crabs
off Boughton Island, and collect sand dollars
for the kids to have for “Show and Tell.”

Just in case money can buy happiness,
I keep my bare feet on the bottom
of Saint Mary’s Bay,
stepping over razor clams and slimy eels
as I feel for silver dollars and Krugerrands.

Disembarked from the world, my un-muddled mind
is content to be at one with the sky and the sea.

I dream of being washed ashore like Robinson Crusoe,
beachcombing around silky sand, sun upon my back,
until I find you.