Posted in Art, Poetry


What segment of man is found in those shoes?

The tired thoughts seeping out of this sea man’s slicker,
The eyebrow rises in disbelief.
The fish he battled, has won.

Into the smoke he yearns to hide.
His coffee warms him, riding the storm. Tomorrow is another day and he won’t run from the sun.

4 thoughts on “Fisherman

    1. Im not sure my words do van gogh justice. I wish i could sit and talk with him. Although i know id be too shy. Ha! At least until i knew him. I suppose my dream of who he is/was is probably nothing of him.

      Liked by 1 person

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