Man in a Boat
by Stephen Edgar
He never will. However hard you brace
Your gaze, yet one more time, to make him note
Your presence, he sits stubbornly remote
And squinnies past your shoulder into space.
He will not look. Confront him face to face,
Block out the line of sight he has by rote,
Stand in his aura — surely he’ll devote
A glance, a shudder. But there’s no such place.
And as you tour his stillness to disprove
A fancy that you think you never meant,
Head cocked, brow raised, he’ll nakedly persist
In staring past your questionable intent,
Until you wonder where the power to move
May lie, or the conviction to exist.