(for Jay)

He drives his large truck
Down the dusty track
And parks quite close
To Edmund’s wrecked cabin.
I see his left shoes
In the opened-up back.

He hurries down
The narrow brown trail
Through a tangle of growth,
As green as broccoli,
Sloping down the mountain
To the evening beach.

 
The sea is gathering
Its relentless power,
Flowering its milky
Last wishes of a rush.

 
He paddles towards
The incoming moments,
To the enormous joy,
Till the ocean thrill-spills
Its climbing and unfolding
Playtime of movements.


His board cuts
Through the waves,
Clean as a shark,
And he and his sleek ride
Shoot and swirl,
Dance and dare
On a whirlpool


Of air and water.

Peter Thabit Jones © 2016

Published in SELECTED POEMS (bilingual: English/Romanian), 2016