Menemsha
By Caoimhín Byrne
dusk is not dusk out here
but a braze, a fireline blazing
bright as a coin
seared and settled
at its plain.
by dockside a bright lie of lobsters,
fleet captains
who remain in lank fine fettle
as a day’s haul, planked
on trawler bins
comes in while the constables congregate
and good chowder cooks
at Larsen’s kettle their catches, spearpoints
gleaming among the ray-fins.
the wisest like to laze reclining
duneside just to see it
fade maroon then watch it go.
that bayside calm, its serene salve
unbuckling us
like oysters, valves shucked, exposing
our blistered pearls
steeped now in a citrus mist.
thus we leave it so, radiant sailing as suns seen
by all into the sea.
Caoimhín Byrne is an educator and poet/author award fellow at the Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing in Edgartown, where he spent many a gorgeous summer in his youth.
Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems of 120 words or fewer to m@mwest.com. Please also include a two- to three-sentence bio at the end of your poem.
