The man who looks beyond the horizon (Joe Louis)

itsnotadominic©

He silently sits,
Staring diagonally downwards at the
At the hard crumbling horizon
That is the wall on which he remains.

I say hello each day as I pass
Breaking his concentration
He looks up at me
Reluctantly
Donating a nod
Before returning to the eternity
In which his imagination seems to wander.

His body remains firmly in place.
His ageing frame, slim and dark, with a silver bearded face
It attests to a long life truly lived.

His location against the perpetual motion
(that is the bobbing, swelling, spray and flow)
Of the Caribbean sea
Serves to remind me
Only of his stationary pose.

Where does he wander when his mind’s eye
Moves him
Beyond this banal world of you and I?

Where does he dwell and who does he tell

In a realm before utterance, touch,
or tears cried
As small as a world, as big as alone
Chasms appear to rift our beings
I there. he here.
Tied.