|Kingfisher catching a fish by Barei (1844-1895)|
Hauling in the morning words,
I caught only three that might be breakfast.
Evanescent was a silver finned beauty,
at least three pounds and lots of fight.
Transcendence kept leaping out of the net and
I finally body slammed it to the deck, where
it glowed slightly under my coat.
The last word wouldn’t stay still long enough
for a certain I.D. There it is in the basket,
waiting for me to work up some courage to
reach in, throw it in the fire.
Day or night, life on this ocean is fine, if a lot of work.
Hungry days, sure, but now and then—
a good catch.