GLOUCESTER, MASS
Staring at the sea,
I’m one with an unbroken line of widows.
I stand where people live
with a clear, direct view
to where they die.
I’m mute
but the silence before me
is even deeper.
Except for where land meets water.
There, on rocky shore,
waves mock with their gentleness.
I am a fisherman statue.
I am a memory solid as stone.
