Lori Bodner
when sea calls salt

as the tide turns the ocean yawns the sun squints and fishing lines twist glitter on the bow slung with wet salt and sea his mouth hangs heavy with cold beer he holds a glint of silver in both hands gnarled by shards of hooks past he cradles his catch tenderly a smash of glitter flecked in black a surprised mouth, a tail feebly chucking against the boat knowing that darkness is his dream as gasping heat fades to blind eyes reaching for salt.

<< return to the Table of Contents for New Series #9: Summer 2020, Volume 5 Number 1