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The Road to Broad Cove<br />
The low angle sun sh<strong>in</strong>es through the trees; it lights our way through the dawn breeze.<br />
The one on my left says, “Light me a smoke”.<br />
The other opens the w<strong>in</strong>dow so he don’t choke.<br />
I’m the Jr. of the three:<br />
my brother and Sr. rid<strong>in</strong>g with me.<br />
Lobster fish<strong>in</strong>g bait <strong>in</strong> the back of the truck.<br />
“Four crates today, with any luck.”<br />
Then a fox jolts by and snatches my gaze.<br />
They don’t notice, as if <strong>in</strong> a daze.<br />
They’re th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g about our day on board.<br />
I realize they’ve been down this road before.<br />
Later we’ll be away from land’s reach.<br />
To the Po<strong>in</strong>t, the Joker’s, then to the Beach.<br />
My thoughts won’t be about today’s catch or the ropes that could br<strong>in</strong>g me to my death.<br />
They’ll be of the fox I saw as we drove <strong>in</strong> the low angle sun on the road to Broad Cove.<br />
John Beaton<br />
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