Fish, and Body

Fish, and Body

One clear briny day on Bleached Shore
A scraggled greying head curled East
and blinked dreaminess from his
seaworn teary eyes, smiling
permanently from squinting into
the glaring lovely face of his sun
The tangles of his peppered brow and beard
combed with gnarled fingers,
bent with hauling and mending his
same old nets - the nets that have
favored him devotedly, bringing
silver gifts from salted depths
lashing mermaids and sirens
trapping delicacies that the
wizened man graciously eats
with untasting tongue and
always a prayer to his
Good God for blessing his nets
and twisted fingers another day
under the saline sun and
crying gulls