Shannon Laws Crab

Crab

A foam washed wreckage to shore

breath-bubbles pop in the thin light

Early beachcomber fights the gulls

for a freshly delivered treasure

The minute before dawn you grab it’s back

Carry it to your kitchen for a slow boil

With a crack a glut of juices spill out

Lips suck at the muscle and warm butter

An ear to the empty skin hears echoes of the sea

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