POETRY

Jubilee! Jubilee! cries the barefoot boy, splashing through the bathwater-warm surge of high tide. People carrying buckets, nets, gigs, and washtubs rush toward a mass exodus from the murky deep, of blue crab, shrimp, flounder, stingrays, and more,

to the sandy shores of Mobile Bay. Crustaceans by the hundreds, pinchers waving,

are climbing over teeming piles of slippery carapaces, only to wind up steamed, ice-cooled, and swallowed

by tourists and locals alike. And for days afterward, the oily odor of deep-fried flounder will hover over Mobile in a thick, lip-smacking haze. What a gift to receive the earth’s bounty

with such little effort on our part, though some might say a starved soul is not so easily filled.

For now, however, we won’t speak of hungers left unsated by fresh seafood seasoned with paprika, salt, and bay leaves, served on platters with a lemon wedge and sprigs of forest green parsley, or straight from the pot or pan — not while our barefoot herald is harvesting fist-sized shrimp, his face still radiant with joy and the roseate blush of a Jubilee dawn.

poem by TERRI KIRBY ERICKSON photo by MEGGAN AND JEFF HALLER

From “A Sun Inside My Chest,” Press 53, © 2020 by Terri Kirby Erickson. Erickson is the author of six collections of poetry. Her work has received multiple honors, including the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and a Nautilus Silver Book Award, and has appeared in numerous literary journals, magazines, newspapers, anthologies and other publications.