October 5, 2018
Photo by Patrick Norberto
Fate of the Fiddler Crab
A Poem by Melanie Black
I’m weeping rain today and everyday
Always with dark, full clouds over the marshlands,
Crazy as a cat-o-nine tails whipping the wind,
Until November when it turns to witch’s hair,
Taupe and the color of salt mud.
Fiddler crabs dig deeper still
Into my deep red heart
Finding the black hole in the center,
Inching down the cold dark steps
Into the dark basement of the world.
With one weak claw it chains its oversized hand
To the fishy sewer pipes
And wails all alone in its prison.
In the outer world gales crash against
The gulls standing at attention on the beach
Looking for humpback whales.
I watch the sentinels at Herring Cove fighting over morsels.
The sunsets are glorious because it’s Christmas;
Cold light illuminates the moving ocean.
At night, I can’t sleep because of pain
Ripping through the ligaments in my sternum.
If I am lucky I will say goodbye
To this horrible, beautiful world
Before I’m eighty.
I’ve never been lucky.