The Wave-Watcher



Oh to be the Wave-Watcher.

Hours spent searching, driving here to there to here to there and back.
Watching the white lines,
Watching the potholes,
Watching the trees in the (offshore? onshore?) wind,
Watching the fuel gauge,
Watching the map,
Watching the compass,
Watching the music selection,
Watch out on the wrong side,
Watching things roll around in the back,
Watching for somewhere to pee,
Watching for signs,
Watching for the last turn,
Watching the first waves,
Watching the tide,
Watching & wondering if it’s better somewhere else,
Watching the forecast,
Watching the decision,
Watching the legs, arms, torso become a neoprene wrap,
Watching the board come out,
Watching the wax go on,
Watching the half run / half walk to the sea,
Watching the paddle out, the duck, the dive,
Watching the thrust, the pop,
Watching other people surf.

Watching myself drink another litre of cranberry,
Watching myself pee for the hundredth time,
Watching myself make another flask of camomile,
Watching through the snap of the lens,
Watching the antibiotics turn my stomach over,
Watching my frustration grow,
Watching my mood darken,
Watching my self-pity absorb me,
Watching myself withdraw within,
Watching a surf go unsurfed.

Oh to be the Wave-Watcher locked out of the water.


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