Poetry: I am a Dock

A group of buses and bikes came in today. With happiness and childlike wonderment they explored then left. I said goodbye to them and they didn't seem to understand that if they didn't return then this would be a final parting. But I did.

A large group of planes are here currently. They love boasting their skills in the sky and I watch from where I lie and wonder the duration of their fuel, these comrades of mine. They ask me to explore the clouds and I politely decline as they go further away from where I lie, each will part soon.

Every now and then in comes a boat or a massive ship to my shore. Those days make me the happiest as the familial bonds of our complementary sets makes us realize that we form a home. I always feel safer when they come to stay and those partings are always the roughest. Lately the seas have been unsettled and angry and I watch the waves with nervous anticipation, hoping to see my ships come back as they always do.

But I am just one dock, that's all the town needed. Most of the time I silently stand alone, just waiting. I'm tired of buses asking me to see the towns where they come from. I'm tired of the planes pestering me to fly and see the other side of the clouds. I'm tired of waiting for my ships to come back so I can feel whole. I'm tired of being alone. But as a lone dock, who would understand me? The planes don't understand that I don't fly, the buses don't understand that I don't drive. And when a boat has a duty to part, it must. They already give me all the time that they have for their desires are parallel to mine which means that they intersect at infinity and what's more complete than that?

The waters strikes up on my planks like it does every day. But today I feel a little bit more soggy than normal, a little bit more like fish than usual, a little bit less well kept than I should. And as I look at the stars which flirt a dance with the top of the waves I wonder how long it will take for the sun to take away the pain.