The Watcher

I found a poem written years ago. It was based on a dream … so, does anyone have a clue what it means?

The Watcher

She sat, then shifted from side to side.
A solemn man spread his net,
pulling it from the riverbank.
Its open weave billowed and sank.
He worked with steady concentration.
The watcher’s disinterest was evident.
She felt slight amusement
at the man’s intentness.

Attracted by skittering movement on the sand
she picked a crab up and held it
in her hand.
The intensity of its shell
was shocking on her pale palm,
its deep red-tinged edges
pulsated life into her pallor
… heat into her passion.
The crab’s sidestep on her palm
tickled her centered calm
in an unfamiliar way.

crab in hand IMAGE
She dropped her arm
and slid the crab
into the river’s flow.
It sank through transparent layers
and was pushed across fluted sand
by the undertow.

Then fisherman was now observing the watcher.
This disturbed her.
His attention made her a participant.

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2 Responses to The Watcher

  1. Pat Angevine says:

    Beautiful blending of the more spiritual elements of life with the physical.
    Could not put it down. I loved it.

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