Through Age wizened Eyes (Full Circle)
Boat's line canal banks, excuse me..., estuaries
wooden ramp reinforced with metal,
juts out to the water's edge.
The idle living, in big demand along the banks of the estuary.
Still just a canal to me.
Where out of shape residents, walk their dogs,
and the cheerful laughter of sunburned,
and or wrinkled housewives can be heard.
Color barriers non-withstanding.
As they proudly saunter onto opulent motor boats
or for a lazy day Canoeing.
A chortle of laughter engulfs me.
I lived for a time on the banks of just a canal, in my youth,
and now as then, on the banks of the canal
I've come full circles, my deepest pardon,
I tend to forget to call it an estuary.
As a Child in Jamaica, we lived on the banks of a canal for a few Months when it was not popular to live on the banks, it was a mark of poverty. Now it's a mark of prosperity it's the pull of nature calls to most.
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