Oars


Conflicting thoughts dance around his head.
He shakes them off to go earn his bread.

At the river bank he picks up his oars
And ferries people across the shore.

As he rows he feels happy
His hands and body move in perfect harmony.

He breaks into a smile
And forgets his problems for a while.

The happy customers will pay up the fare.
But the contractor will take the lion’s share.

He sighs and consoles himself
After all, his dream won’t come true by itself.

His simple heart plays its own beat
One day, he’ll have his own fleet.

Oars


Photo taken with a Moto G3, edited with Befunky.


This is post #27 in this year’s NaBloPoMo, or as Ra calls it Nano Poblano

NaBloPoMo = National Blog Posting Month = Thirty straight days of blogging


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