The Calico Box Crab

Once, an aged fisherman was heard to speak from a boat on the shore of Chesapeake Bay. His voice, like every bone and plank that did creak, (as the ocean waves came in to splash and spray) about a creature, singular and unique, "'twas eighty-seven years ago to the day. When I was just up to a grasshopper's knee I saw the calico box crab by the sea. As I stood near the sand on a slick sea slab, in an earthly appearance of God's good grace, it was then that I saw it - I saw the crab, sporting a spotted, colorful carapace, a crustacean, that never was dull nor drab. I would always remember the special place where I first found the joy I couldn't foresee, meeting the calico box crab by the sea. I tried gently to touch her, with my right hand, but I scared the calico box crab away, as she disappeared swiftly in the soft sand. I come back to this place each year on this day, but I won't come again. My time is at hand, and I'm going to heaven, but I can say, 'I never touched her, but I once got to see the pretty calico box crab by the sea.'"