Month: March 2016

We Came to fish,

Nothing more.

To make a living,

We are poor.

 

Now we wait,

The storm must pass.

We must make it,

For the rest of our class.

 

Families are waiting,

Relying on us.

Fish to sell,

Prices to discuss.

 

We Came to fish,

Nothing more.

To make a living,

We are poor.

 

I wrote an Ekphrastic poem based on the Wave print by Hokusai. The speakers of the poem are the poor fishermen who went into the ocean as they always did, but encountered a perilous storm. They wait for the storm to pass while their families wait for them to return. My A B C B rhyming pattern gives repetition to the poem, and in part symbolizes the repetitiveness of the fishermen’s lives.