What Separated The Land From The Sea

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Some said he lived at the divide
of land and sea. There wasn’t such
a place, he thought. Unless he was

that fabled division. He was not
a carpenter, farmer, or sailor.
Those roles had been part of

a guise once. He knew the docks
from the water born rocks. He could
recreate the hum of a tractor and saw

without concentration. But that day,
in that lonely cafe, with Tuesday’s
newspaper spread out before him,

and the waitress, who had been by
eight times each hour, he was a man
with no notebook to write in

and far too many qualms. He lived
along the waterline. Perhaps
this is why they said he occupied

this borderline. But what was land
was land, and water was water,
he thought. It could have been

the air he breathed, and floated upon,
that made them say these things.