Excerpt:
the island
In those hours before sunrise,
while the water is still new, my father
and I walk down to the pilingsto dip our lines in the murky Severn.
We would bait our hooks with grass shrimp
from the corner store, or dangle old meatfrom a string, to lure out the crabs,
who would scuttle across that weathered dock,
then vanish between missing planks.