NECA STOLLER
'North Beach Grill'

The awning fan is a kaleidoscope
that grays the low tide's glisten
and changes the air from glare to flicker.
I drift here to drink, taking in
the blue shadow of the harbor jetty.
A boy crouches to spool loose lines,
to gut a fish. Those eyes that can't shut;
the translucent tail that won't still.
This persistent probity that holds
each fin in its place, keeps them erect
until they catch the rising sun,
scales gleaming a burnished yellow.
Hours later, the smell of spilled beer
lingers on my wrist and fingers.