Trash Panda Literary Magazine

The old man stands by the jetty
His hands like vellum discarded
From an Antique book
He wears a bonnet made
From matted animal fur
Its colour darker than a well
On a starlight night
He has no whites to his
Cold embered eyes
His feet filleted into Toeless boots.
He takes his pole as I step aboard
The waters swoosh and whirl and suck
But his withered arms
Know such mischief
And even in the middle
Of the raging and the roaring
Of the black waves
He holds the shallow drafted vessel
To its course until we reach the shore
Where he takes me by the arm
And steadies me on the bank
I look at him and see a young boy now
And thank him
With a hand full of pebbles
From my grave
Then run yes run up
From the harbour as the sound
Of laughter grows ever stronger.

Bernard Pearson is a published novelist, poet and biographer, and an award winning short story writer. In 2019, he won second prize in the poetry section of the Aurora Prize for writing. His poetry and prose appear in over a hundred journals worldwide, including The Toy, The Dirigible Balloon, The Caterpillar, Aesthetica Magazine, and The Edinburgh Review.