Fisherdad
i
dropped knees into oil, scum
that lined the pier, called
out, voice sore as cut-glass
salt, tongue a quivering
just-caught flounder – baltic,
brassic, coin scales worthless
u
spat into sea, delved for
a wet wink, masked a tear in
need of blinking away – a long way
to go, to bring home
slick-backed fillets, the eyes
dull as chip-paper
ii
gulped back words,
sorrow slipping
into tides
uu
slicked the hull,
a salt-worn palm –
a gesture
Amy Ekins-Coward lives in South Tyneside with her wife and cockapoo. All three enjoy long walks on the beach and having friends round for dinner.