Walking along the beach, I look out into the noonday ocean and see a
rowboat drifting on the waves. As it drifts closer,I see there's a man,
stretched out, sleeping in it. I call to him- he doesn't answer.
"Ramon,Ramon," I call. Why Ramon? Who knows,it just flows out....
naturally.
As the boat reaches the shore, the man stirs and awakens.. he sits
up. Although he has a baby face and a slight build, I can tell he's in
his early thirties. I offer him some water from my jug and he gulps it
down like he's been ten years at sea. As he finally lowers the jug from
his lips, he looks at me and starts to smile.He recognizes me, although
he doesn't know from where. I'm taken aback because now it's me
remembering him: it was a soft, summer's day when he rowed away; not a
cloud in the sky."Mama, I'll be back before night. Don't worry." A deep
sadness overtook me as I waved good-bye to all the peace and tranquility
I'd ever known.
That was some twenty years ago and NOW this disastrous ocean has
delivered him back to me? Am I dreaming? Am I? I lean over to kiss his
cheek...
Ramon?
©paulabrown.
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