Little fishing boats coast
Out of harbour, labour towards
A cruel coastline. Prows high they
Point against a grey sea, grey sky,
Against the battle of the wind they
Defy the water's surge and dash,
The smash of force against their
Small sleek hulls.

The larger vessels look on,
Lumbering in turn, treading
Water in disdain, their backs
Hard against the sealine - they have
More important missions with their
Flat bellys, strong barriers to keep
Their cargo in; rolling contempt
For all things smaller than them.
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