Here are working men
with hands that are calloused
not consecrated. They are used
to the burn of ropes,
sweat and smells
of fish, fraying nets
and the squinting worry
of work.
This time they
are the ones caught,
though they try to close
their eyes,
like fish, they are lidless
and they are seen.
Somehow they are known
by this stranger
who smells like blood
on wood.
Joseph Ross teaches at American University and coordinates poetry and lectures at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, D.C. Photo by Mike Kemp/Corbis.
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