"tender"

Folder: 
Miscellanious

i still look over the ocean

and i feel the pull,

the freedom of the water

that draws me in each time.



i remember the good days,

when salty air flooded the

senses and dried the hands,

when i tended for the best man.



always sober, never late,

and his wisdom would

speak to me over quiet hours

as we fished for the greatest catch.



he taught me well a tender's

soul job and when

times were rough i knew

the equipment of proper safety.



the bond that was shared,

between tender and diver,

was never broken and to this

day the loyalty still holds true.



much weight is carried with

the tender, not just the

weight of the rope but there

is still a burden more, and that's life.



his life and full trust was put

into my young, soft hands,

now calloused with work and

the knowledge of a fisher's way.



when he'd dive beneath the

surface of the water

i held the heavy lifeline between

him and me, the many feet of rope.



i'd sit against the edge of the

boat deck with the sun on my back,

and wet rope tangled about me,

just waiting for the tug.



and after a hard day's work,

we'd separate to our homes;

he to his boat, "The Sword", and

i to my uncle's apartment on the beach.



there i washed and mended

my cuts and rope burns

and then i'd fall into sleep, for

tomorrow a long day of tending lay ahead.

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