We stand shorebound and watch
fishermen hold tight to rocks,
their faces smooth like beach glass
from years of meeting with the sea.
A wave will crash
and more and more –
Applause for the morning’s bounty.
Even icy dawns
when we saw the sunrise
over wild spraying sea –
And biting winds threw birds
towards the end of the earth
and the horizon lay as if it were under the tide
ignoring the seabirds fights and cries,
she still accords with fishermen
trading patience for salt.
Their steady, tired feet and tired eyes
meet the wind and take its bites
and respect where the horizon lies.