The fishing nets are fine,
fine and well mended.
Jose helps to haul them
aboard with his young
strong hands.
The catch seems good
as if Christ Himself
had been on-board.
The sun is low
in the sky,
seems to sit
on the sea.
Fishes flap and turn
on the deck of the boat
after we haul them in.
It has been an arduous trip:
one man down, off sick.
Jose, bent down
his strong mucluar arms
performing their task,
seems content.
Back home his wife
awaits him, no doubt
with troubled brow,
her brother drowned
on a fishing trip
a few years before
out here in this wide expanse
where the fishes swim
and the sunbeams dance.
It is done;
the catch is sorted
and pack away.
We head for port,
our load complete.
We light up cigarettes
and smoke.
He quiet
stares at the sea;
I repeat
well worn jokes.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 4:52 AM UTC
The fishing nets are fine,
fine and well mended.
Jose helps to haul them
aboard with his young
strong hands.
The catch seems good
as if Christ Himself
had been on-board.
The sun is low
in the sky,
seems to sit
on the sea.
Fishes flap and turn
on the deck of the boat
after we haul them in.
It has been an arduous trip:
one man down, off sick.
Jose, bent down
his strong mucluar arms
performing their task,
seems content.
Back home his wife
awaits him, no doubt
with troubled brow,
her brother drowned
on a fishing trip
a few years before
out here in this wide expanse
where the fishes swim
and the sunbeams dance.
It is done;
the catch is sorted
and pack away.
We head for port,
our load complete.
We light up cigarettes
and smoke.
He quiet
stares at the sea;
I repeat
well worn jokes.
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