© Harold Meston 1995

I leaned against the railing of the liner at the pier
and waved with gay abandon to the people standing near –
I searched the seaof faces on the dockside far below,
to see if I would recognise a face that I might know.

I scanned the many faces as I stood there at the rail
and hoped that I would see one face who’d come to see me sail;
there were faces young and faces old -faces black and white
but, I couldn’t see a face I knew there within my sight.

I saw faces filled with happiness -faces lined with tears-
and faces there with nervous smiles -to hide their deepest fears;
there were faces of confusion -faces full of sorrow-
although I closely searched each face, would I remember them tomorrow?

The face upon the old man -partly shaded by his cap-
the bright and happy chubby face of the child upon his lap –
the face upon the mother, who was standing by his side
to ease the pain of parting -but still the old man cried.

The face upon the young man who was saying his goodbyes –
the sad face on the young girl with tears within her eyes;
the flush upon the faces of the couple boarding soon –
shy and coy, embarrassed -as it was their honeymoon.

Wheree’er I looked were faces staring back at me
all with mixed emotions, which I could clearly see –
yet, in all those many faces, I could not see a sign
of any who’d acknowledge that -they knew this face of mine.