Berthed

I’m riding the wind

see flows in the air

it’s harbouring ships

and shear foam of the waves

while shouting over the jetty

beside the fisherman lays

embedded in ice

the catch on its last gasps

in silent staring

I dive and I float

the warmth of the haven

the fish are berthed

stripped of their sea

and intestines.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

21/09/2014