Fish Harbor, J.Henry

Fish Harbor
By Jack Henry


i remember
the clang of halyards cry
well before the dawn

long thin bows cut
silver glass
sending tides
of rise and fall

a longing bellows moan
of the inner harbor
buoy greets them
as they go, off to
chase a crimson sun
gulls in their wake
as slowly gather speed

lights dim fade exhaust
as angry pistons kick
w/soulful force

i can hear the men
on the black wood decks
laugh, drink
coffee and go about
their day

we settle back to slumber
three hours before
a mid-week rise
no other sound, or sight
or thought crosses
through my mind, other
than the gentle creak
of a world spinning
around

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