To Be Free (Written May 29)

To Be Free

 

For the last time the soles of his shoes

Slipped and slid down the narrow,

Rocky path to the desolate beach.

 

The boat he was expecting was late.

Flocks of whitecaps seemed to reach

From the near shore to the horizon. Dark

 

Clouds hung over the middle of the bay,

And sheets of rain, like the smooth bark

Of a beech tree, fell straight and true.

 

The feeling of being on his own, with

No one to answer to, was entirely new,

And though he had yearned for it madly,

 

Now he wasn’t so sure. To be free

Was his aim. But if things went badly,

He’d have only himself to blame.

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