When I was a kid, we lived at a place that had a private dock on a little lake. The dock was probably 30 to 40 feet long, and the water was about 15 feet deep at the end of it. We had great times swimming and diving from the dock, but sometimes it was nice to just sit on the dock with my feet hanging over and follow the ripples on the water, listen to the rustling leaves, and watch the clouds roll by while pondering random things. We moved away from there many years ago, and these days, the only docks I get to sit on are the shippers and receivers docks, while waiting for things to get loaded or unloaded. But, it’s still a place where ponderings can unfold. Truck driver and singer Brad James has a YouTube video of a parody he sang of the classic song “Sittin’ on the dock of the bay” (which Kim Grimm wrote about a few months back), and I highly recommend you look it up. I think he nailed it – and it captures the vibe I aimed for with this poem. The tick-tock clock watching and other “dock pondering” that we use to kill the time while we sit and wait to move America – again. I hope you can relate.
By Trevor Hardwick
I don’t know where I’m going after this,
I guess I’ll try to chase a path, I think I might’ve missed.
I never really know what’s coming, after where I’m at,
But I know where I’m going after that.
I don’t know why I do it all the time,
Tripping over dollars, when I’m chasin’ after dimes.
And if I had a nickel, for each time I won the game,
I wouldn’t have a penny to my name.
This old world is full of love and hate,
Makes no difference, where you hide or congregate.
Put a little meaning, to the dash between the dates,
Better try before it gets too late.
Maybe I’ll just put this thing in gear,
Quit with all this pondering, and get on out of here.
I’d rather just be hammer down, rollin’ on the rock,
But here I am… just sittin’ on the dock.