General synopsis

General synopsis

There’s a storm forecast.
Nobody’s going out today.
Waves are crashing over
The breakwater.
The wind whistles in the beams.
It sounds like the Arctic.

In houses, cottages, living rooms,
Trawler folk drum fingers
On coffee tables as
Rain rolls down window panes.

Tied to the quay,
Metalk hulks bob on a swell.
Security lights gleam from
Wet concrete.
The fish pallets are stacked.
Everything is squeaking.

Plymouth, Portland, Lundy, Sole.
General synopsis
South-west storm force.

There’s a storm forecast.
Wind blows the rain horizontal.
A shopkeeper stands in a doorway.
There’s no-one around.

The trawlers.
They nod to each other
And share stories
Of rust and other ailments.
Tethered three abreast
In case they escape.

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