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Aug 2018 · 474
The Dock
Daniel Simpson Aug 2018
I stand on an abandoned dock
There's nothing in the desolate water
Just me facing the wind, no one to talk
Blowing onto my face, salty tidewater

Eyes closed with clouds overhead
The wind blows, bringing in different things
grief, pain, loss, lies, all unsaid
But the wind runs its own course, caring for nothing

Yielding for none
So I stand there, fists clenched
Faced stoically towards the wind, I could run
I remember the people behind me, each entrenched

Those who rely on me to block the salty sea
Sometime they don't feel the breeze
At times they forget the wind even blows, if only they could see
I never could through, as my very soul it tries to seize

This is my duty, like a giant totem pole
Watching over my people, they are my pearl
Keeping my hands clenched, I think of my role
They are ignorant to the real world

But that keeps me locked to the world
Against each gust of wind
Then I remember the one before me and all his worth
The one I looked up to, the one I wish I could send

Always there looking off at the horizon
Waiting for something
But always blocking the wind and what lies within
At the time I knew nothing of these things

Then like the wind, he moved on
Leaving that patch of worn wood where he stood abandoned
But just because he left didn't mean the wind moved on
The wind destroyed the home my family had made so grand

I was left with a choice:
Let the winds destroy my home
Or listen to my inner voice
So I marched down to that dock all alone

The winds in my face
Threatening to knock me over every step I take
Hands against the wind I pressed against its chill embrace
Until I found the end of my fate

I placed my feet in the ground
Locked into place
So now I stand here not making a sound
But now there's something in the water

Ships coming into harbor
As they lower their anchor
They come out single file
The first walks out

"We've all braved the storm too"
Then she grabs hold of my hand
As if following her orders, the others do the same
One by one

Ship by ship
The line following the shore from my crowded dock begins to unify
And with each one of their cries
The wind slowly begins to die
The first poem I ever wrote. I wrote it this year in my creative writing class.

— The End —