Basin Breezes

On tenterhooks and steadfast stillness
Nature hovers ever on the watch

Leviathans of the fishing fleet
Powerful floating machines of endurance

Scarified from weather tossed midnight trawls
Battles with beast and swell

Hatches battened and ropes cinched
Hauling, drifting and hauling again

And when the sea is done with them
And they are tied in to safe harbor

The rigging allowed to rest
The sailors lubbering homeward

In between the rhythmic lapping
dock to boat
saltwater
hull
saltwater
hull

There is a space
for quiet reclamation

And Nature
always
always
finds a way.