The Dilisk Gatherers Poem by Margaret O Driscoll

Way out at low tide mark
Where there are waves of giant kelp
A dilisk gatherer lifting bags on his back
Calls his brother for help
Two bags on his back at the turn of the tide
He treads over the rocks to the shore
His younger brother shoulders out a bag
Then they both return for more

'Leave your bags halfway' the older one says
'I'll take them the rest of the way'
Helping each other they work as a team
At the car park they're handed their pay
The dilisk is laid out in the sun
When dry it's packed for sale
The dilisk gatherers work with the tide
Alternate weeks without fail