A breeze nudges the empty aluminum boat
as it drifts at the end of its rope,
its lightness wallowing within it like a fat man
who has fished all day and fallen asleep
and is dreaming of when he was a little boy
and weighed no more than a plastic bucket.
Years of floating alone, fishing far
from the tourist cabins shining like rivets
along the waters edge, have bleached the blue
from his overalls and denim shirt.
His face has the flat gray sheen of a man
with a failing heart, but he is all lightness now,
and tethered only gently to this world.