PART ONE: The Old Man And The Moon Dancer

This is part one of a large poem I am working on. I will be placing it here in sections. I hope you enjoy.



Copyright 2012 Gordon Kuhn

Poet in the Rain Productions


T’was an old man,

I spied,

Down by the sandbanks,

At the settling of the sun

When its daily course was nearly done.

Do you know the place that I mean?

You’ve been there, I think, in dreams alone with me.

T’is where the sea gulls gather daily by the score

There they argue, curse and dominate the shore

Each lifting their voice in a horrid scream

Lord they sound so bloody terrible mean.

Aye, t’is that spot there where the river meets up with the sea.

T’is that wide place, you know, in the land there, where the river flows in,

And the waters therein tumble, mix, and run free.

A place where the fishes of the river swim,

And peer at the fishes of the sea.

Where the sea birds hunting fly above,

And land without paying any fee.

There they’ll eat what they can, and say farewell to the rest

Whom they’ll catch next time, if in hunting they’re the best.

Aye, t’was the time when sky colors mix, and darken their wonderous hue.

When devout in evening prayers go and kneel quiet in a pew.

And those who walk upon the beach slow from many to none, or maybe just a few.

It was then I saw him seated as the day colors did begin to slip away from view.

T’was down near the sandy edge he did sit, where the passing sun had dried water from the sand.

There he could sit in some small comfort watching the tide remove the water from the land.

No humans beside we two visible were, just the old man and me.

While noted I some resident birds were about seeking their nests,

And some were sleepless free.

And the fishes swimming in the water from the river

And those in the water from the sea

Swam together as they crossed the liquid boundary

Where the river fresh crossed into the briny sea.

May 11. 2012 End of Part One.


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