![]() Fillin' InA Poem by Donald Meikle
A tear bubbled and bled
To run warm then cold in the keening wind Hands too busily working in stinking bait gloves Were of no use as cheeks reddened in frozen feeling The pitching and yaw of the hauled in boat added to the stress The traps had to be emptied and filled The sea was not cooperating No words were said None were needed His eyes said it all No matter that he'd run up on the weather side God forbid he'd err at all This was a minor squall Finally the traps were done and run out At least he did that into the weather Or as close as he could They had to run North to South No matter where they were Huddled in out of the wind Hands free to wipe streaming nostrils
On wet cold jeans then Suck down the thermos of hot buttered rum She wondered if anyone ever thought Of where lobster came from
© 2012 Donald MeikleFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on February 15, 2008 Last Updated on July 4, 2012 Author![]() Donald MeikleHalifax, MAAboutLiverpool born,USNavy vet. Enjoying first marriage. three daughters, (two bathrooms) one until they left. (a tree that loves me) Poet thru geneology) Scot Irish. Living in New England more..Writing
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