(Click on photos to enlarge.)
On platforms built over the bay,
the fishermen begin their day.
In spite of last-night’s sordid fun,
they’re up before the day’s begun,
ready to join their fishing fleet
so later we can leave replete
with fish from platters piled high
with clams and shrimp and codfish pie.
Wild fishermen of bar or tavern,
in days of old in inn or cavern
drank their wine and emerged bleary
to their boats, hungover, weary.
Simon and Andrew were the first
to leave their fishing nets and thirst
for cups of wine filled to the brim
to change their lives and follow him.
Joined after by the other ten,
they all became fishers of men.
And even though eons ago
they, too, had their wild oats to sow,
these fishermen would be surprised
that since then they’ve been canonized,
thus feeding souls with other than
can be dished out in dish or pan.