Fishermen

 

Boats on the shore.

Muscles, 

tired

and nets empty.

 

Taste of salty air

odors of damp nets.

Again to set sail

after a night of wasted

energy.

 

This gentle teacher

who sees inside my heart,

caresses my spirit

and knows strength

and fault.                 

A miracle,

the net which had not one fish 

is filled,

ready to burst

and the teacher 

just smiles 

at me.

copyright 1998 - Donald P James Jr