9 Years Late

I step into the wooden floors

of the Fountaine Pajot Bahia 46 catamaran.

I navigate myself to the wheel.

Shirt off,

Panama hat firmly in place,

Ray-Ban sunglasses on,

Cigar in mouth.

The easterly breeze strikes my right cheek and

flows down onto my neck and back. The wind now behind

me as I glance at the white carbon-fibre sails that

fly above me.

Seagulls fly across my gaze,

and then zigzag into the horizon ahead of me.

The orange-yellow sun now

sits afloat, the turquoise waters

of the Mediterranean sea,

beckoning me,

taunting me.

 

I’m late for my tryst.

Nine years too late.

 

Photo Credit: nautal.com

 

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