Shared with The Mag.

BRINGING IN THE FISH

A small island race raised
on this brief silver harvest:
fish slithering like coins
from treasure chests hefted
down from rusting boats
that seem too nutshell frail
to ride these stacked northern seas.
Cluttered quays slick with moss,
bleak streets and blunt-nosed cottages.

Nothing glitters or shines here
by design, nothing radiates. Rain
ties the clouds to the cobbles
all year round. But then the boats
come sidling out of mist and spill
their trove and a stolen richness
shimmers briefly in the dark.