Out of Hemingway’s Cuba

Oh Santiago, back again

For days sore missed at sea

And did you foil the mighty fish

Or did you leave him free?

With luck so bad

So many days

You should have taken me.

But you’ve the skill and you’ve the heart

To hold a steady line

To trail behind his monstrous pull

Across the fickle brine.

Or did it snap

Through some mishap?

Please tell me, friend of mine.

Just now, too tired; I understand

You’ve played the Man’s ordeal.

But dockside, skiff and skeleton

Betray the sharks’ cruel meal.

Sleep on Old Man

The lacerated hands

And heart will heal.

 

Doug Blair, Waterloo, Ontario

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