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Poetry opens our imagination, and Scott Cuttre knows how to capture our attention.

After the stunning "Suited Savior," the 36-year-old writer from Belmar, New Jersey, returns with a breathtaking poem that blends the ocean, the waves, surf lifesaving and a beautiful woman.
"Green Eyes"
Maybe it was the season's sweltering hold or life stealing a once strong spirit 
the need to continue searching for the ocean's perfection no longer inclined my adherence
This lust had waned, becoming hidden but not replaced
attempts at reconnection grew fewer, deep down somewhere encased
Unable to escape circumstances, deciding to nurse lost desire to search 
carrying this broken down spirit to my once sandy church
Necessity and seclusion allowed me to call this street my home break
endless miles being driven, regardless of stakes and heartaches
Past frequency of visits, tempering decadent palaces neighboring 
only relating to lavish surroundings when climate turns less favoring
Peering down on this stretch, distinctive to what others claim their main stay
often overlooked or dismissed this street simply named Hathaway
Conditions appeared appealing so I knew what outcomes could be awaiting
a day when most were work free, crowds I wouldn't be escaping
Even the angriest holding gripe couldn't find fault on this day
beneath the cloudless cast sky, lie fun swell on display
Peaking weather plus waves brought plenty far from the know
making sure to catch my fair share before masses forced my decision to go
As my feet sunk in the sand I was splashed with an old feeling of relief
holding this moment precious, disallowing my mind to find reason for grief
Days like this taken for granted when a younger me showed no concern
now compromised by time, learning how quickly things turn
Thirty years would brush past me, watching a child rush to the safety of his mothers grin 
a reluctant smile crept onto my face, remembering how I used to be him
Climbing up the natural formed bridge unique to this pathless landslide
wandering amidst bodies melting, carrying my board and fleeting pride
Absorbing each ray, in need of all the sun's strength and power
two tanned bodies would appear, rekindling lost chances and desires
Movements put on hold, attempting to garner something similar to courage
contemplating how to approach with the right chosen verbiage
Desperately fighting not to show I was surrendering to what I was fearing 
my glance for connection would be denied, could I actually be disappearing
What was missing was the strength to untie my personal bind
like endless encounters before, two more faces not meant for mine
With my confidence depleted, my walk alone now seemed longer
I began to question every instinct followed, and opportunities forever squandered
Ripped away, a proud posture, high hopes discarded to the sand
when from behind, rang a yell, resembling a battle crazed minuteman
Desperation thrust my attention, watching feeble hearts run
for a second time hearing the screeching plea, "someone call nine one one"
Spectators on their feet as this harrowing scene began to play out
why was my walk down to the commotion so calm, trying to locate the life in doubt
A strange courage I possess, differing from the missed opportunity prior
I'd soon be right back where I started, helping a life span appearing dire
As I dropped my board to the sand, faces were puzzled in denial 
unaware of the true circumstances, the victim still unsecured before my arrival
More than a witness to this incident, refusing to wait for what others might do
deciding to join the fight with every step I previously withdrew
Nonchalance poured through each stride, preparing to reentered the ocean's blockade
with nothing to lose but the chip on my shoulder, somehow so far from afraid
Garnering as much notice as the tragedy unfolding was the proprietor of information
chaos took a back seat to her green eyes glowing in my direction
She quickly filled in the blanks before my descent about to take place 
pointing to a man fighting with the jetty and his leash knotted like a lace
No true relief in sight, with other attempts causing nothing more than unrest
was it only me holding clear thoughts to aid the distressed
For a second time taking a knee, connecting my board to its home
much more at stake this time around, my purpose finally seemed known
Her green eyes looked concerned still I had to prevent this man's last say so
hoping my reticence might remind her of a martyred hero staring at everything he'd like to know
Clinging tight to the rip providing push to my stride
a compromise might just have to be made, his struggling soul traded for mine
When I arrived he had freed himself up from a sure fire demise
resolve still unclear, fear overwhelmed his bravado masked guise
The jeopardized life made a move yet to be duplicated
climbing up the tractionless rocks, his legs and arms bleeding from every angle serrated
Halfway down the jetty is where we'd meet, trying desperately to calm his nerves
"free the rocks from your feet, and your life I'll preserve"
My directions seemed missed, within his slow crawl
as I paddled over to an indent separating the jetty's wall
I'm not sure if it was fear or his own private mission
but all my comfort filled instructions wouldn't pry him from his position
Unaware this plight was true, prepared to die for my sins
his fear ridden expression revealed he wasn't ready to die for his
"Kneel over to where I'm floating and I'll safely paddle you in"
still too scared to appreciate this savior's dream day requiem
Unbeknownst, to my right, stood the soon credited heroes in blue
no longer a concern, lack of provocation served as my exit cue
Gasps of worry turned to relief as the applauded respondents reeled him in
I wasn't expecting too much, maybe a thank you, a shake, just a grin
My effort was too close to feel useless, yet unseen by most
not the Father not the Son but an aspirant Holy Ghost
As I moved through the sights and lights for all that flashed 
in search of eyes lanterned green so I could throw a feeble pass
She was the only one, for sure, who saw the attempt that was sought 
if anyone were to appreciate my heroics, for her I wouldn't be an afterthought
Ignored by all the others and there were plenty that passed me
pursuing acknowledgement, heroine for me she would be
Looming again were the steps how many more times on my own
I'd spot her walking away with another, not even a slight image of my clone
Maybe I should've been proud for the intent I showed
but all I thought about was how my spirit was destined to be unknown
Admiration, far from the reason to reenter the surf that day 
when I recall this man's eyes, more than mine praying to stay
Looking down on the commotion not as someone who intervened
now just another random viewer, blending in to the scene
I took my wayward steps back, aware of my matter of course 
packing my car with just my board, harbored feelings of remorse
Why did she have to been attached, when I thought luck finally chose me
then before I turned my key I felt her green eyes from the sea
Trailing her companion, flashing a smile not meant for him
we stared at one another, knowing this was an end that never would begin
As she passed me for that final time, a shared moment was embraced
all effort somehow sufficient, my spirit saved and replaced

Scott Cuttre

 
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