The Herring Net by Winslow Homer, 1885

Out to sea we proceed

Row, splash, row, splash, row, splash

The paint brush sways like waves

Churning water below

Hues of deep blues and grays

Some fish it will bestow

A storm above us brews

Water comes rushing down

To gray the blue skies turn

Mimics big blue beneath

Winds bash against our stern

Chomp and bite like dagger teeth

My boy thrown overboard

His body in the tide

His fingers grasp the hull

My heart skips a beat

Saves himself with a pull

Death he indeed did cheat

Mother nature, intense

But also forgiving

The net I pull on in

Flows over, filled with fish

Quite the trip this has been

But I got what I had wished