Nice and Easy

As the pier traffic
Of departing afternoon fishermen
Releases its hold on the days mood
Bobby and I settle to our evenings work.

No rods or hooks,
No weights for the bottom feeders
Ours is a more subtle game,
Our prey can choose to let go of the bait.

A line of heavy string,
Run through the empty dead eye-sockets,
Secures the fish head
As I play out 14 feet of cord.

North Ocean Street pier
Had been getting plenty of action
These last 2 weeks of August.
Time to test our skills.

Our crabbing is an art.
No cage, no trap.
If the crab on the line sent the message
I had to ease the crab to the surface.

Gently, slowly, with the string taut,
Outsmarting the crab,
So that it assumed
Bay currents were moving the fish-head.

Bobby, who handles the net, will blame any loss
On my line handling.
I will point at him...
And the splashing of the net.

Not unlike the fishermen,
We usually leave a little grumpy,
Having allowed the humungous
Blue claw to escape.