Man On The Beach Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

I chose the road less taken
And came upon a beach
With cedar trees whose greedy leaves
Flashed silver in the breeze.

The wind was brisk; the sky was blue.
The dune grass moved in ripples.
The water lapped on cool rough sand
And pooled around some driftwood.

Much further down, upon a point,
Half hidden by a bosket,
A man skipped stones upon the lake,
With rhythmic, hopping ploshes.

The wind was blowing in my face,
The sounds seemed amplified.
I almost felt I heard his thoughts,
That we were standing side by side.

He seemed to tell me of his life
Alone here on this island.
The summers spent in pensive walks.
His winters spent in writing.

His youth had drained away from him
As he chased his dreams of profit.
His ships had wrecked; his stocks had dropped;
He was haunted by his losses.

And so he walked away from life,
Or what he thought 'life' meant.
And built a cabin hidden here
Among maples, firs and elms.

Along these paths he's taken,
Where few have ever come,
He pioneers a way of life
And beats it like a drum.

His footprints are a message.
His chimney smoke's a code.
The stones he piles along each path
Have led me down his road.

And now I watch in silence
On this chilly, pristine beach
As he passes on his wisdom
Through the prism of his peace.