One Sailor, Two Bikes

One Sailor, Two Bikes


One early May morning
she bought a one-way ticket to anywhere but here.

Landing in Frankfurt
cycling through Europe, what began her fare
as a journalist, writing about
what she sees, about her vision
that brought her here—
the morning after a gentle rain
was when by chance, he met the girl
in ripened goodness,
in the sparkling Port of Ginesta, Barcelona, Spain.

He, the lonely sailor
forever searching
hopping the world about
now resides permanently at sea,
time and place no longer at issue
the unpredictable winds a necessary lead—
had stopped in Port to scout out a bow ornament
but was leaving with five bottles of Spanish whiskey.

His beard overgrown, the man was lean
with tan tattooed to the bone—
knuckles gnarly of a tempered skipper
calm and steady
his every movement determined and mean.

She spotted him
rigging his Panoceanic,
a 43-foot temptress christened “Wait and Sea”—
packing supplies
preparing to voyage
out into the middle of anywhere but here;
out into the wavy waters, his constant companion,
who but cradled him for the last seven years.

It was in that morning light, he returned her gaze
she, with auburn hair
and studious green eyes, studied him
taking notes
slim and intelligent, stricken with a puzzled look;
gear and bicycle at her side—
wholesome and complete—
attracting him
to entreat, behind the doors
that opened wide.

They fell in love in that late August tide.

The season has turned
she said...
she needs to find a new shore to explore
and he knows just the place,
where the stories are quaint and
the cycling is good;
but, first to brave the mighty Atlantic might—
to which she said, yes...
promptly, they went out to purchase him a bike.

Through the Strait of Gibraltar,
she learned to sail, becoming first mate—
chronicling
the journeys that wove their days:
the bikes—they rode whenever ashore
where she tutored the intricacies of touring the road.

Never to buy that return ticket home,
she, sharing permanent residency on the high seas—
journaling about freedom
and a dreamy vision,
and how to toast to it with champagne.

The sailor...he
has run a-ground, but still afloat
vowing to treasure
the bow ornament—
which was sought and found
in the Port of Ginesta, Barcelona, Spain.