Red Hook, Brooklyn. 07/27/24

Sitting on the fringe of large patio contemplating

retaining wall perch, New York Bay lapping gently

every table, chair, square foot occupied

genial reverie of twenty, thirty-somethings

enjoying summer Saturday night

companion and I well beyond the demographic

Our backs to Staten Island, I squint my mind’s eye

at ancient brick-warehouse-turned-hip-brewery

easily imagining much different commotion of

a century ago – ships, cargo, men loading, unloading

tonight’s cargos emotional, metaphysical in nature

people still unloading, just a different cacophony

barked work orders, complaints of then, imagined

segue easily to modern conviviality

My grandfather worked on these docks

Pier a short, daily walk from where Gramps lived

Norwegian-merchant-marine-turned-fresh-immigrant

Seamen’s Church room and board provided in return

for church upkeep when not loading, unloading ships

navigating new country, cultures, life

After years of decline these docks once again teem

activity now pulsing soul – young people nursing

their dreams to do, to be, much more, then-as-now

having come here from other places, common thread of

aspiration stitching together past, present, new futures

packed pier visual, aural pastiche of new optimism

New York Bay laps rhythmically at seawall, constant

waves – allure of this place brought them here from..?

languages spoken on these docks then may be

little different from the unfamiliar tongues heard now

though tone of Millennials, Gen Z differs from the era

of then, hopes remain what they were, are now

Brooklyn is where dreams come to live new lives

‘Those who don’t remember their history are

doomed to repeat it’ rings true, as for my personal

reckoning tonight with the past I see it much as I

imagine Gramps did amongst clamor of youth, upbeat

striving, hopeful. I think, “Gramps was young, once”

As the day’s sun sets to our backs the waves pick up

tides of water and time pound languidly behind us

as I sip freshly brewed New York lager and

newly captured instant, mental snapshots processed

every precious drop of this moment and then savored

their richness at peace with and amidst the ghosts

mindful of the moment, my place in it now, then

At peace entirely with myself as the tide ebbs