The Fisherman by D.D.

“He’s not coming back dear,” the old woman said.
She put her arms around me, and cradled my head. She said “the waters were wild, the winds were high. There, there dear girl, don’t you cry.”
“He worked hard for a living, he did his best for you But he’s gone dear girl, there’s naught you can do”.
©all rights reserved by the author D.D. 2020