Fishermen at Sea
by BERA OZKAYA
Gateway Science Academy
The boat tips under the hand of the storm,
Brushed waves clawing at its ribs so fragile
A flicker of a moon no bigger than a pen
Half-drowned in the inky restless sky,
Casts ghost-light on the faces of the fishermen
Paint swirls along the horizon,
A smear of shadow, a breath of rainbow
Fading into the throat of the storm
The guitar of the sea strums wild chords,
It's string snapping into white-capped fury.
Hands grip onto the frame of the boat
Knuckles taut like bricks holding back collapse
And every splash rises a momentary pattern of chaos
Blocks of light and dark
Spill from latent to wave,
Cutting a picture alive and drowning.
Beyond the chaos
There grows in their minds a single plant of hope
The goal, the shore
Still far to reach and touch