Fishermen by Timothy Haut
A distant bell rings Through the morning fog. There is the slap of nets on water, And a sudden flurry of birds Stirring the sky. The two fishermen are weary Though the day is just beginning. They sense that the seasons of their lives Are slipping away, Like silver fish seeking Deeper water. They can not see beyond the horizon-- Not the farther shore of the sea, The green hills where a strange world is hidden, And not the uncertain shores Of their own mysterious lives. Something has stirred in them, too, This voice calling them, This presence casting a net over their hearts, Tugging them somewhere Yet to be discovered. "You will always be fishing," the man had said, "But it will not just be fish that you seek." The brothers feel the sun Shining on their sweating faces. They know that whatever will come, They are in it together. The younger one shades his eyes, Squints at the man coming down the road, Waving toward them. They are caught by love. (Comments to Tim at Deep River, CT