A lobster pot
tossed by the sea
onto the sharp rocks
wedged in the jetty
between the boulders
of the breakwater
pristine, but barnacled,
seaweeded, lost, adrift
crashed where we found it
in the jagged wet rocks,
on the Maine coast
that long ago summer
climbing down among the
stones
to bring it up, into the
light
no minor feat
Lug the dead weight
weighed down by bricks
down the jetty, to the beach
abandoning our find,
our catch
to true owners
claiming their rights
as we left the rocks
and touched the hot sand
Edited May 4, 2013
“A Lobster Pot – v2”
March 11, 2007 15:23
“A Lobster Pot”
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of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004,
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Poetry Where You Live.
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