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A Fisherman’s Life
The fronds of the palm trees sway in the breeze.
A lone tiny boat is bounced by the seas.
The sunset is orange, reflection is brown.
The sailboat is cruising, searching for ground.
Its sails are not open; winds aren’t enough.
It turns to the land in seas not so rough.
The sailor aboard will happily feast
on fish that he caught, but crabs he released.
The crabs were too small to legally keep,
but fish in the boat are all in a heap.
Arriving in harbor, anchor’s put down.
He’s managed to make it back into town.
He wraps all his fish in yesterday’s news
as men on the dock are drowning in booze.
Large trawlers unload their catch for the day.
The slatternly rocks now stink of decay.
He walks on the pier and heads to his car,
and starts driving home which isn’t too far.
His wife and two kids are waiting to eat.
He almost is home and drives down his street.
His journey today has gone very well.
Success will ensure they’ll eat for a spell.
A feast now awaits the fam’ly of four.
Some fish they will freeze for when they want more.
The peaceful dark night is starkly pitch black.
Tomorrow he shouldn’t have to go back.
He rests by the fire—a warm peaceful glow.
Fatigue and desire will cancel, you know.
He’ll sleep like a baby, happy and full.
He’s changed into jammies made out of wool.
A few seconds later, starting to snore,
he’s fallen asleep right there on the floor.
His wife gets a blanket, wraps it around.
In seas of hard work a harbor he’s found.
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Pamela Ruggiero was born in Urbana, Illinois in 1952. She currently resides in Antioch, California.
She was a software engineer and did consultation work in IT. She also played tournament chess at a high level and did oil paintings. She’s now retired.
You painted such a vivid beautiful scene of a fisherman that seems so serene. His hard work rewarded he rests for the day while his happy harbor is home where he’ll stay.
Love that “jammies made out of wool”.
‘He wraps all his fish in yesterday’s news / as men on the dock are drowning in booze.’ Love it.
A lot of the West African countries south of where I live have small-scale fishing, but suffer poor catches due to industrial trawlers fishing off the coast.
Very vivid and topical, Pamela.
Good picture of a workday, Pamela. You create a genuine sense of dependence on labor for the basic need of food. This is reinforced by the fisherman’s falling peacefully asleep, knowing he has done more than enough for the day. Your meter seems to divide each line in half, with a pause in the middle. I don’t remember this from your previous poems, though they all have unusual metrical interest. Is it an effect you aimed for, because of the topic in this particular poem, or as a way of conveying a feeling?
A beautiful scene. We can follow the fisherman through his return and feel for him and his simple life. There’s a calming flow to your poem that I enjoyed immensely. Thank you for this harbour of peace.
This skillfully-written description of hard work, its rewards, and the joys of family life is very expressive and moving. It left me feeling as if someone has wrapped a comforting blanket around ME ! Most enjoyable!