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The Woman 0n the Pier

by: Guildford Windley

The Woman On the Pier

On the old wooden dock, I see her every day
In her long gown of blue, quite the lady I would say
I watch her from my old fishing boat as it sways against the pier
I go about my work but wonder about her world
She has class and lots of money, I would think
But why does she come down to this part of town
This place stinks of dead fish and diesel
The water around this here port is not that of blue
It is oily gray, the film of the oily sludge engulf the boats as they lay in this bay
She seems so out of place, in this run down place
A beauty of femininity meant more for some fancy estate
Yet every day she comes this way and spends hours on this dilapidated old dock
She looks to the sea as if she waits for a ship’s return
The woman is bejeweled from head to toe
No fancier a women have I seen
As I coil the lines on my deck
I reflect about the distance between us
Her wealth; my poverty
I wonder if her life is really better than mine
For in her face I see pain, a hurting kind
What tragedy could haunt such a person with the world at her hand, could it be a lost love
Yes my life is hard with my body full of pain, my hands with blisters from working the lines
I toil in the hot sun for my keep; I fight the elements of the sea to bring back a few fish that I sell
But even with my fate cast so low, I still do not feel the pain that I see coming from her soul
The lady she stands here on this dock, with the world at her hands, yet so melancholy is her mood
To one day see her smile, I would give a day’s catch of fish!
Guildford H Windley
October 5, 2018

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