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Boats in the Harbor
January 18, 2019
The boat bobs and sways back and forth
as you slowly drift into the harbour.
boats are lined up neatly
In dozens of rows.
The blinding sun beats down
breaking through the clouds
reflecting off the ocean
bouncing back into your eyes
nearly blinding.
A gentle breeze
blows your hair and tickles your face
cooling you from the blistering sun.
Water mists up
dampening your cloths.
The constant sting of salt
Inescapable
mixed with smoking motor oil
and foul scent of rotting fish carcasses
Gulls screech
the sound shrill in your ears
waves clap at shore.
© Jenn C., Marblehead, MA
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This poem was inspierd by a boat trip I took with my grandparents.