Silhouettes emerge from the night lunar tide lives still wriggling in their net ghostly figures from the sea silken wide reaping riches from the waves in spate.
The night a luminous smile wears the belly is fired up for a bite dried leaves would burn under stars brewing another day under moonlight.
Mariners when not venturing into deep sea release passions on the shallow shelf harvest hope though the catch is measly breathing in the winds the aroma of kelp.
I feel having long belonged to this place wading breakers in the phosphorus' glow gathering in my net a strange happiness craving home when the tide is low.