It’s a cold, windy, gray January afternoon. I’m walking my dog on the bluff above East Beach near the 16th beach access path. Below me, on the sand, are a boy and a man arranging fishing gear. Their presence stirs inspiration and I capture this moment in a photograph; save it on my iPhone for later use in my creative work. Days later in my studio I make a print of the photo and use my artistic license to recreate the scene in a painting and a poem. Simple enough if I stop there; but not so simple when observation prompts questions that can’t be answered.
Red Sneakers
Standing near the man
the young boy’s blond curls
ruffle in the icy winter wind that
sprays steely-blue ocean water
over craggy dark rocks
and wobbles the fishing rod
standing in its sand spike.
Seated near the boy
the grown man’s hat hugs his head,
he bends over his task, prepping bait.
Does the man sense
the boy’s watchful closeness?
Does he notice
the boy’s small, pale hands
relaxed at his sides or
how his red sneakers
warm and brighten the dull cold
of this January afternoon?
I’ll never know,
although
my sense of what I see
might be
all that matters.
