Fresh Fish. Poem by Michael Cochrane
Fresh Fish.
They sailed on the North sea, casting nets in the twilight.
Catching herring and cod, in the cold biting wind.
The quiet moonlight came and gave light to the ocean waves.
Cruel is the life of a fisherman through tempests and tides and raging skies bring us fresh fish for our tea.
Michael Cochrane ©️ 2026
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7/28/2026 5:38:13 PM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
