A Sunday Afternoon Poem

In Season

Eric is out early
towing his Whaler
down to the landing
all rigged up for scallops.
Drag, haul, cull,
all morning, no matter,
seven days a week.
He shucks them in his yard
each afternoon, some hard
rock station blaring The Clash,
the discarded shells
stinking up the neighborhood.
He sells them to us cleaned
in one pound bags
for a few dollars less
than he gets at Louie's.
He's had a few
too many Buds today
and he slurs,
“ Have you ever seen
their eyes?
They're beautiful
and blue as sapphires.”

~ Clark Myers