Asa Collins

CARAB CAFE

The cove's long arc held back a gallant storm and
Sails furled, skiffs rock to the motion of the wind,
Their shadows splayed on white-washed buildings
Elbowing for space along the shore.

The harbor light, through salt mist,
Watched the sun fall off the far horizon and
The garlic bread and wine at the corner table,
Sketched our stroll toward a turbulent sea.