This week’s poem, called The Ferryman, is by Jon Mecham.
The Ferryman rubs his hands and greets
his wary clientele
on their journey to the other side
he smiles, he knows, he’s seen it all before
even in spate they cross
desperate for the distant shore
Their faces, like photographs
boxed and forgotten
“was I good or bad?” they ask
“will I reach my goal?”
and the Ferryman reaches out his hand
to seize the coin
no sympathy from him
no re-assurance
“You’re already there” he says
“nobody chases you, no retribution
acceptance is the only way”
he smiles again from the pontoon
as they look into the waters
and recognise their reflections
like photographs
floating on the mighty river
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