Since nightfall
a net afloat on the inky sea
Awake, eyes straining for splash of the good fish
corks bubbling, meshes taut in water
We strain for a hint
Morning
the chill, dew upon the hull
Whalesong beyond the gray horizon
But the water here was empty
And there is a fog bank forming in the east
Hands hasten
find their aching rhythm
Yard her aboard, good friend
and swing the bow for shore
