Fast Eddie's Pier VI

  My home feels more of the ocean these days. There's rebuilding taking place, but only by mercy. Everything smells of the ocean. The air is thick with salt. If it were hot this day, your sweat would be slicker somehow. Milton won. Of that, there is no doubt, for my home is reclaimed.

Waves to lap upon my shore

Sounds before a winter storm

Time's heavy, heavy score

Come to knock upon my door

  The building at the end of my pier is alone now in the bay. There's no way to walk to it, and people just stare. It's a longing gaze and a bewildering scene. They just look. Are they wondering as I do, with time clicking away? I sometimes would come just to walk it; sometimes to have a bier and write. The wooden table, surrounded by humanity, and the solemn power of the waters.

I'm more open than I used to be

Gray, and creaky around the knees

I feel the grass, the sand, inside of me

I know the tears of the stormy seas

  There's so many things I cannot reach because calamity will tear them away. I've gone silent in the wake of life's storms just like the two old ladies who stare at this same broken path - it's a muse of sorts. If you can't traverse the path, then you have to find another way, but some of us can't let go, at least not just yet.

The storm is coming, I can feel the rain

To wash away my memory's stains

From times I spent, and pains I gained,

And hope .... the walk was not in vain