Does he think of them?

He stands alone
beside the sea;
attempting to capture
that which it offers,
reveling
in the aloneness,
the thrill of the hunt,
the roar of the wind and waves.
Somewhere,
are there a wife, a child, or two, or three?
Is Father who he is,
or just a name
describing one of the lesser roles he plays?
And does he think of them as his eyes
sift through the waves in search of fish?
Does he think of them as he casts his lures,
and later, when he staggers back across the sand,
boots sticking in the muck,
arms laden with the catch of the day
-- or empty --
does he think of them?


* * *