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Trigger Warning 

mentions of cannibalism 


Down by the lighthouse, in the shallow bay, 

Trots Fisherman Fox in the middle of May. 

He hikes up his overalls and rolls up his sleeves 

And kneels to push over rocks with such a heavy heave. 


Upturned sand clouds the hidden pool 

Of oysters upon oysters hiding precious jewels. 

Fisherman Fox, wide-eyed, yelps out in glee! 

A perfect pearl could make him rich and carefree. 


He collects all he can carry in his furry fox paws 

And skips to the shore, patience thin as straw. 

Six or seven shells plop in the sand; 

Fisherman Fox starts to pry them by hand. 


While cleaning four, five failed forages from Swiftbury bay, 

Fisherman Fox hears a horn bellow that causes dismay. 

There sails Captain Cat, waving from his ship, 

Majestic and pleased from his recent deep-sea trip! 


His tuxedo fur glistens, all salty and damp, 

And he grins at Fisherman Fox while holding his hurricane lamp. 

The frustrated fox scoffs, his eyes cast down, 

Determined to find just one pearl, still wearing a frown. 


Captain Cat, home with the catch of the day, 

Hopes to find a friend who wants to eat and play. 

But Fisherman Fox has no time to lose, 

If he finds a pearl, it would cure his blues! 


“I’ve caught some grouper and cod we could share!” 

But the fretting fox tells him to just “Take care.” 

Captain Cat carries his sack of fish up the shore 

To a quiet camp where he lets a fire roar. 


After all the oysters are pried open, and no pearl is found, 

The sorry fox sniffs a yummy scent coming from the campground! 

He solemnly hikes to the source of the scent 

And finds a lively Captain Cat, cool and content! 


Fresh cooked grouper and cod--an assortment of fish. 

That cheerful cat sure cooked up a plentiful dish! 

“Do you have room for one more?” he asks shy, 

 But Captain Cat was so happy, he could cry! 


They laughed and told stories under the moonlight, 

But it was getting late, and it was time to say goodnight. 

Their friendship grew stronger than any sailor’s knot, 

Which was better than any pearl Fisherman Fox had ever sought. 

A poem that seems to capture what it means to be human during a stage of innocence and carnage.    - Nicole Davee

  • A lot of people limit themselves to writing only one type of genre, and I’ve always wondered why. Isn’t it more fun to write about a lot of different types of things? 

    Romance is one of my favorite genres to write, but it’s also one of my least favorite to read. It all really just depends on how it’s done! 

    Do you remember your first kiss? Mine was right outside a Culver’s at 11 p.m.


    Thank you for reading! 


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