by Richard L. Provencher
6/07/2011 / Poetry
The dockside is a smell
of herring-bait as lobster boats
disgorge slatted traps,
movements
wrestling for a little space
shoreline harbour a bedlam
of commercial activity.
Against a sheer rock wall
the frisky wind tattoos
with evening might, a cabin
shivering on ocean's lip.
Inside, one tired fisherman
captures dreams, of
nets to repair, buoys to paint
backyard a disarray of lobster
pots desperate for tarring.
Richard L. Provencher
First published April 2011
Turbulence, UK
ISSN: 2042-5708
All messages for Richard or Esther can be sent directly to: richardprov2@gmail.com. They enjoy reading comments on their work. Readers are welcome to visit their website at: www.wsprog.com/rp/. Free downloads also available. They live in Truro, Nova Scotia. Canada. Blessings for your loved ones
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