Tired Fishing Harbour

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about the way things seem to be changing rapidly when considering the way we treat marine life, and the consequences for our own communities.

Submitted: February 26, 2017

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Submitted: February 26, 2017

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Tired Fishing Harbour

 

Tired waves lap lazily
under the weathered planks
of the well worn, but empy
jetty on the side of the harbour.
An aged, almost flightless cormorant
rests on a pile of yellow, plastic crates,
that used to hold the catch of the day,
seemingly ages ago.
Now that there are no more boats,
no fishermen,
no gulls,
no seals,
it is just an empty harbour,
on the edge of an increasingly
barren sea,
waiting, and waiting
for a new …
What?
A new fleet?
A new opportunity?
It may never come,
now that the fish have gone.
Where?
Nobody knows.
Few people care,
some old fishermen,
some outsiders,
with ideas beyond
the here and now;
perhaps some locals,
no politicians,
no old customers,
and nobody says why.

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Bert Broomberg. All rights reserved.

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