by Marilyn Humbert
Roused by the taunt of gulls
bag and bucket shouldered
they amble to the muddy trickle
disowned by the high tide.
Eager toes delve for pipis
in gritty-grey sand
below crumbling crags
where the wide-eyed horizon overflows.
They watch children laugh and rush
sudsy waves under oyster clouds,
and crab boats bob,
prows high, as breeching whales.
Curses bounce and billow
tangled around the clunk of rope,
the grate of anchor chain.
On the wharf between worn boards,
fish scales and moments tossed aside,
dodging an occasional angler
kids with handlines
skinny legs and wide brim hats
he clasps her hand.
- Greymouth, South Island, NZ