Disclaimer: I have no right to write this poem. I hurt my right leg
while doing something stupid; like pretending to be 30 instead of
70...However, pain, in any and many forms, can be an inspiration. So
I wrote this to my old captain to honor him and to try to feel the
pain that he has conquered.
It was just the one leg
but the label burned inside
in the 1940’s
There was no place to hide
Polio took many
Some endured, not thrive
But young Jim
would succeed, not merely survive
Many boats he would sail
on Barnegat Bay
No help needed
Sailing, his way
At first a walker
and later a cane.
Both were worthless
on a deck’s angled plane.
On a boat he found
That he could make a stand
With one good leg
and two strong hands.
Tom Crowley
former mate on the Adventure 1971-72
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