Icelocked
by
Wayne Thomas
(Age: 58)
copyright 06-27-2004
Age Rating: 10 to 127
Bevies of boats,
Atlantic dories,
spray-drenched,icicled,
decks aglisten with salt,
stacked one on one,
hibernate four high
on gravel shore.
Three trawlers,
one so old it has a steam engine
and a big black stack,
sit frozen,
locked in ice,
in the inner harbor.
Gray-and-white smoke
plumes
from the fishermen's homes,
several clapboard houses,
a log cabin--built from a kit,
a shingled cottage,
two modern brick bungalows,
and a rambling thing
with blue aluminum siding.
The lighthouse keeper
has left tracks
across the ice,
and there,
halfway across
the frozen channel,
is a bag of lollipops
dropped from his groceries.
Last night the church burned down,
and all day
a sheriff's car has sat out front,
guarding
the ashes.
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My grandfather used to be a fisherman, and that is the extent of my knowledge of fishing. His hat glittered with lures and his hands smelled of fish. His eyes lit up when you pretended to be interested in his fish tales, especially the BIG one that got away. Thank you for reminding me of a wonderful man I once knew.
Excellent poem of a nautical nature in ice cold weather. The imagery is well done the site believable, the diction excellent, the phrasing good, however this poem will stand stronger without the middle detailed descriptions.
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