The Reach

It's Maine...
 And it's Autumn
 The birches have just begun turning
 It's life and it's dying
 The lobstermen's boats come returning
 With the catch of the day in their holds
 and the young boys cold and complaining
 The fog meets the beaches and out on
 the Reach it is raining --
 It's father and son
 It's the way it's been done since the old days
 It's hauling by hand ten miles out
 from the land where their chow waits
 And the days are all lonely and long
 and seas grow so stormy and strong but
 The Reach will sing welcome as homeward
 they hurry along.
 And the morning will blow away
 As the waves crash and fall
 And the Reach like a siren sings
 as she beckons and calls
 As the coastline recedes from view
 And the seas swell and roll
 I will take from the Reach
 all that she has to teach
 To the depths of my soul --
 The wind brings a chill
 There's a frost on the sill in the morning
 It creeps through the door
 On the edge of the shore
 ice is forming
 Soon the northers will bluster and blow
 And the woods will be whitened
 with snowfall
 And the Reach will lie frozen
 for the lost and unchosen to row --
 And the morning will blow away
 As the waves crash and fall
 And the Reach like a siren sings
 as she beckons and calls
 As the coastline recedes from view
 And the seas swell and roll
 I will take from the Reach
 all that she has to teach
 To the depths of my soul --