It was the strangest of days, That turned into the coldest of nights. I lay there waiting for the Fisherman's return. A promise of his blessing, Before I headed out to warmer waters, Until Summer was to return. The red wine was now half empty, The candles wax-ridden and burned. The current shifted, it was time to return. A fair maiden in a tavern, Wrapped around the Fisherman's arms. He gave her tokens she would treasure I gave him curses of scorn.