Dream Steering
It's clear he's well into his journey to a shore far away!
He holds the tiller tightly, eyes fixed on the horizon, feet spread wide, bracing should anything hit him broadside.
The wind stirs the tall dry grass beneath the boat, creating soft waves like shallow swells on the sea. He sits, quietly and straight, face forward and fixed in a frozen grimace, chin high, eyes squinting nearly shut. It’s clear by every measure, he’s well into his journey, far from here, far from where he started, far from where he wants to be, dream steering to a distant glistening shore, far away.
“Dream steering”… great pairing and well placed, loved that.
Great to submeet you this week.
Dream steering, love that. My dad used to take us fishing as kids, the engine would often break down and he'd end up rowing home, then mam would do the gutting and fry up the mackerel. Your poem brought me there today, thanks.