Fisherman - April 30, 2001

(c) April 30, 2001

I've become an old dock bum
but I won't complain
my rusty bones they limit me
from hoisting up the main

When I was a young man
I could work all day
pull the big fish from the sea
work hard for handsome pay

I've played on waves for all my life
the ocean is my home
the harbor is the only world
I have ever known

The times they change my friend
there's no more wooden boats
they're all now made of fiberglass
with fancy colored coats

But the tide it doesn't hear
what's new and what is old
the surf still churns to angry foam
with the gales of winters cold

Yes I am a fisherman
too old to go to sea
but I can tell some stories
of larger fish than most will see

Just one more time I'd like to go
back out past shipwreck reef
and catch the one that got away
the spring of sixty three

by Ricky D. McKean

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