The salt air will never erode away
That this town continues to operate.
Both of us are always going to stay;
We will figure how to co-habitate.
It will eat at the corrugated steel
That gives us shelter from wild weather,
But we know that the rusted roofs will heal
When they are replaced to overexposure.
The warped wood is part of our city’s charm
That only the outside will notice.
When they say something they do not mean harm;
The longer you live here, the more you miss.
I enjoy life in this fishing village
At the edge of the continental stage.
John Collings 