perhaps
no-one else
noticed him
the fishering man
alone
he strode
the emerging tide
with spade
in hand
headlight
dark marked
his face
bent upon
the honest slavery
of hunting
so to live
silent
solitary
studying
the worm seeker worms
cast down
his eyes
his shoulders high
against
the smouldering heavens
his shadow
time less
time filled
time free
neither you
nor me
his equal