New blog

A FINE NIGHT

The dull drone of a diesel engine

Pulsates across the bay.

In the dazzling lights they use here

To draw the fish from deep waters,

Screaming gulls pierce the silence

Of a birdsong free night,

Feeding on fish guts

As empty carcases are

Carefully coffined in ice

For the morning market.

The catch is in the price of the day

And the crews share;

How much to spare

For family and an hour or two ashore

Building reputations in bars,

Boasting of the next haul,

Raising the bar for a wager,

A wager on the weather

That balances lives.