Aged, decrepit premises On the threshold of the bay Encircled by a neighbourhood Of caplin spawn and spray Your empty doorway yawns at life You knew more generous times Salt-bulk stacked up, heads and tails Among killicks, nets and lines Your decomposing platform On rinded longers made Once held hands with hawsers As skiffs bobbed in your shade Your splitting table, battered now Is bending at the knees Where once the codfish, plenty Were disembowelled with ease Your hollow, vacant, gaping loft Once echoed through the rafters On wintry nights, while mending nets With songs and yarns and laughter Forsaken little fish house You felt harmony and strife You tallied codfish on your walls And you tallied someone's life
“I wrote this poem in 1985 when there was only one fish house left down to the Gut.” - Marina
Marina is the daughter of the late Mrs. Aggie (Mooney) and Mr. John. |
Branch Come Home Year August 9-19, 2007 |
The Forsaken Fish House Marina (Power) Gambin |