Berthed

I’m riding the wind
see flows in the air
it’s harbouring ships
and shear foam of the waves
while shouting over the jetty

beside the fisherman lays
embedded in ice
the catch on its last gasps
in silent staring

I dive and I float
the warmth of the haven
the fish are berthed
stripped of their sea
and intestines.

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere
21/09/2014