The head hits the pillow, and the alarm begins to ring
total darkness, except the mocking face of the clock
sit down to eggs and hash browns to power the day
stars still watching, their shift almost ended, ours begins
old filleted flounder and such, garbage to most, bait to us
part of the pay from yesterday’s catch
salted and set aside to ripen, now loaded aboard
as the mooring lines are tossed, the engines roar
timing the tide, to begin our day

Purple on the horizon fights the black
the sea, a glasslike calm, merges with the sky
surprisingly, these are days that most flutter the stomach
the fumes of diesel accent the ripeness of bait
no breeze to rescue the senses
no distraction of swells, or jolting drops
just the spread of ripples across the surface
the horizon, way off in the distance
begins birthing a sunrise in glorious form

Most days, just as the sun begins to crown
the winch is primed to disturb the peace
the first flag is pulled, raised from the depths
crabs, starfish, seaweed and tackle cling to the line
then the first trap hits the gunwale with a shot
my standing sleep shattered by our captured crustaceans
emptythe pot, band the claws, bait the trap, and off the stern
just enough time to do it again!

Thirty pots to a line, fifteen to twenty lines a day
following the path from rock bottom to mud flat
not really knowing if we are ahead or behind
as the sun begins to bake the bait,
adding ambiance to the afternoon
the boxes fill with another days pay
the coast changes sides, we set the last flag of the day
the scrub down, the rubdown, the countdown to home
the tide again low as we enter the port

A full day at sea, but the day is not done
the deliveries get made and the bait trip is run
then it's biz talk, trash talk, smack talk and plans
who’s stealing lines and who’s drilling hulls
goes around, comes around to the extreme!
men acting like boys, and this boy feeling like a man
sitting with my Coke soaking it all in
couldn't wait to see who’s not sailing tomorrow!

Shark River, NJ... a summer full of dreams!
never worked so hard or enjoyed so much
memories, one after another, so vivid and fresh
still taste the smells, and feel the swells
the sea legs, and rocking dreams
combinations of curses never considered or imagined
and crusty characters never forgotten!
a summer job that taught more than life lessons
the world on the docks has a normal all its own