My father fished with gill nets
while ships the size of his nightmares
dragged the sea bottom miles
before destroying the floor.
Regardless of location,
every Newfie dreams
of the way it crashes and swirls,
curls up a rock and splashes silver foam,
leaves the surface for dry
only to hit it again.
Another stage sinks,
one loses a floor board
that somewhere will board up a window.
