Glass Poetry Press

Volume Three Issue Two

Edward Byrne

Fishing Boats in Afternoon Light

When I was a child I would watch specks of sunshine spark the tips of sea water, morning clouds long burned away, as those fishing boats returned in afternoon light, their shadows extending alongside a pale wake trailing behind. Each weighted hull, now settling low in the ocean, leaned a little with the windblown waves. The ring-billed gulls dipped from above or hovered as if their slim shapes had been painted in thin brush strokes, slashed against a flat backdrop as an afterthought, one way an artist may indicate presence of the workday's catch stored in the cargo hold below.