Here at the Island it is coming into the summer season and our sixty something resident-population is increasing weekly. Some will come in for the whole summer, some just for the weekends - and then there are the gathering numbers of pleasure boats returning to our harbours as well. The fish are back!!! - and the boats are coming in with good catches of Snapper, Kingfish and Kahawai. I don’t own a boat but my neighbours are making sure I don’t miss out and spoiling me with a share of their fish. Last night it was fresh snapper , a couple of days earlier it was smoked Kingsfish. Life is good.
His senses are first nudged
by the rising aroma
from the entree snapper,
grilled to gold with salt and butter
then the astringent burst
of cut lemon, nothing other
added, before the knife parts.
The fork gathers up the first offer
toward his mouth and the fish
looks so good he won’t linger
before another forkful will come
to his lips – but oops, feels his error
for the tongue encounters small
sharp bones within the texture.
He won’t swallow yet. Replaces
knife and fork for thumb and forefinger.
And his palette, as never before,
is being pushed, way further,
as tongue, lips, the whole cave
of his mouth now hover
in an art of taste and sort – the mouth
becoming so sensitive it’s closer
to pain. Fish slow on the tongue.
Lick fish-juice from fingers. Is it vulgar
when finished to only be able
to murmur, ah! And again, ah!
With every sense focused, aquiver,
for the next course he’ll encounter.