Man of broken shoelaces and chipped coffee cups,
man whose thunderous voice rasps with sadness
and echoes across the years; oh Pablo,
what shall we do with this fractured world,
this world, as it leans forward on crutches
coughing into its filthy sleeves?

A great horned owl
barks at us
from the top of a tree
as we haul our catch
in from the boat--
two pots full of crabs
that have spent their summer
just as we did,
skittering sideways
always looking
for something decent
to scavenge.