Near the bridge
On the side where they kept the sailboats
Opposite the fishing fleet
The lobster catch was emptied
Into the old shack
And sorted by weight
Once in a while
A big old one got caught
Maybe 50 years old or more
And they’d keep it around for its special value
Until someone would come in
Wanting to buy it
Or just because it was there
Wanting to buy it
And then it was gone
Killed off and eaten
As if it were a common animal
Instead of a something.
And then the place returned to being
Just a lobster shack
With maybe a 4-pounder or so
On a good day.
(c) Alan S.
Kleiman 2013
published:
About Place Journal Vol II issue III - 2013
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