Fish Market

Tangled green netting lay on the quayside,

Oil lay floating on the harbour`s water,

Fish bones scattered on the cold stony ground,

Red plastic crates slid across the cold wet floor.

The sharp poisonous fin of the slimy bass,

The long sharp knife filleting the slippery whiting,

Adults muttering to one another,

Wholesalers vans hurriedly reverse.

The vicious seagulls scavenging at the leftover fish,

Juveniles cawing at the sight of food,

Shells  kicked across the stony floor.

The smell of fishes hit our noses,

Maggots on the ground wriggling.

Can you taste the seas salt and waves?

Can you taste the crabs boiling in their death?

By Kerry Dunn

Visit www.seafish-education.org.uk to get inspired like Kerry.