It All Goes Back to the Sea

THE NET

One net woven strong by
Calloused hands salt worn
Sea blistered and true.
It holds the best and lets
The rest slip through.
Care taken keeps mended
Un-patchable tears,
Weaving the rent with
Stronger ties, tighter knots,
Binding with care holes
Torn from the air.
The big fish thrash,
And the net holds fast.
Though names slip through
Like water with yesterday’s
Breakfast, and that word
That tickles my tongue
But won’t be swallowed.
The big fish thrash,
But the net holds fast.
I still recognize your face.

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