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