Rhymes of Ancient Mariners . . .

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Years ago from the Port of Morlaix
In the far western reaches of France
Two sisters set to sea together
Sailing out the estuary to the bay
Avoiding the rocks in the shallow waters
Heading for the deeper blue
Where longer nets could be cast and towed
And the bountiful silver clad denizens of the sea
Could be hauled aboard by fair or foul weather
Oft sailing off the coast of Ireland
Perhaps half the way to Iceland
Brave mariners manned the decks
Never doubting the graces of the sea
To carry them home again
Never doubting
The infinite supply of proteins
Destined for all of Europe's dinner plates
Never suspecting that one day
The nets would come up empty
Never imagining that one day
The government would pay them a pittance
To stay home
To set sail no more . . .
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Simple controls to motor forward or reverse
To set the rudder for graceful changes of direction . . .
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The Shepherd's Star, the Pen an Dour
Now destined to a watery grave
By the harbor side
While their very planks and ribs and keel
Dream of riding once more the breaking wave
Mounting the looming swell
Smelling the salt wind . . .
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Meals once prepared in this most rudimentary of kitchens
The pots braced to keep them from pitching
Their contents down the legs of the galley mate
Now rusting, rusting . . .
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I think the only lights still capable of shining a light
Are the "Feux Detresse" . . . the distress lights
The fuses all blown, blown away, man overboard . . .
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Who will climb down once more into the belly of the boat
A boat just barely able now to float
The heart of the ancient mariner now a whisper
A barely audible whisper
Of battened hatches and mackerel and cod
Of dire storms and prayers to some unseen god . . .
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Immatriculations MX 195135 & MX 430050
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