Fishing for souls
Off he went, fishing for souls
An hour before the dawn
Down to the Harbour
Where the deep ocean roars
The swell covers the pier
With grey souls flapping on granite.
An ordinary day in the autumn
A humdrum October morning
The eastern sky without promise
Before light filters in through the cracks
As he makes his way to the sea.
A few hours later with souls hauled ashore
Fresh souls and old souls
Unsure of their future
Picked out of the sea
God’s catch for the morning.
Work all done, he heads wearily home
Another day over, another soul saved
In a twilight world, unseen by many
But as real as the dawn of any day.
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