At Evening the Boats Crowd Towards Shore

Music: Fugue in B-flat minor By Dimitri Shostakovich. Sequenced by J. Marques.

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Alpha List Philosophical Poems Contents Home Copyright by Nicholas Gordon

At evening the boats crowd towards shore, The yachtsmen eager for a night of talk In bars and cafes, weary of the wind. At dawn they drift back into the harbor And sail loosely scattered into the bay. From shore there is nothing more beautiful: A schooner moves reluctant with the tide, Sails taut, yet trailing the current, Hung as if absorbed in meditation; Or a sloop leaning into the water, Ropes groaning, skin cracked in salt and sun-- Why does it do battle with the wind? In winter, white with moonlight, the harbor Holds nothing in the darkness of its arms. The boats await the coming of the yachtsmen, Who once again will fill the bay with grace.