Dusk came as he worked his boat,
too focused to notice his surroundings.
Toiling for that which he loves, that which pays his bills.
Solitary in effort.
Daily grind or sprucing for a guest?
One that might make him forget being alone
for long, long hours.
For charter, or for pleasure?
The waves that rock him daily
are as comforting as his mother’s arms,
which he can only remember
in his dreams.
Yet he avoids sleep,
and the journeys that come