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Josh Bowman is sharing his father’s poetry all week. Today, SALT BOXES.
Note: this week I am publishing a travel poetry series, all written by my dad. This is his book. Buy it if you like poems (you can also email my dad directly).
SALT BOXES
(Woody Point, Newfoundland)
THESE WINDOWED SQUARES,
BRIGHTLY ARRAYED THROUGHOUT
THE SURVIVING OUTPORTS OF NEWFOUNDLAND,
SEEM LIKE ODDLY COLOURED CHECKERS
ON AN UNORGANIZED GRASSY BOARD.
BUILT NEAR AN OFTEN RAGING SEA
THROUGHOUT THIS ROCKY-INFESTED LAND,
THESE COLOURFUL PLAYERS HOUSE INHABITANTS
WHO CHOOSE TO LIVE NEAR WHAT HAS ALWAYS BEEN AN ABUNDANT SEA.
AS THE FISHING GOES, SO GO THE OUTPORTERS
WHO DEPEND UPON THIS OCEAN BOUNTY FOR THEIR LIVELIHOOD.
OIL AND MINERALS WILL NOT REPLACE THE RICHES OF THESE COASTS
NOR WILL THEY GIVE THE FISHERMAN BACK HIS EXISTENCE.
GO QUICKLY TO THESE OUTPORTS!
GO QUICKLY BEFORE ALL FISHERFOLK
ARE BUT A DISTANT MEMORY OF A MARITIME PAST,
GRADUALLY FADING AWAY
AS THEIR CHILDREN MOVE
TO FORT MCMURRAY, ALBERTA.
Image courtesy of Kent Bowman.
To read more travel poems by my dad, check out:
