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 https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author