James Mclain Poet Lyric

There Are Not Enough Oysters Now

There are not enough Oysters—now—
The Tide—has turned away—
Sweet—Salty—Pink—their Secret Flesh—
Once blushed beneath the Sky—

The Rocks—retreat—like faithful Friends—
Too long—the Sea—has pled—
For Pearls—that once were whispered—round—
Are faint—like Ghosts—of Bread—

The Stone Crab—waits—in patient Grief—
Its Claws—a Prayer—unsaid—
The Hand—too late—remembers Grace—
When this great Feast— we Ate—

So Nature—keeps—a Book of Loss—
And writes—in Salt—Her Psalms—
While Human Hunger—counts the Cost—
And empties—out—Her Palms—

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Paige Hind November 9, 2025 at 5:51 PM Wow, this hit me emotionally- "The Tide—has turned away— Sweet—Salty—Pink—their Secret Flesh—"..."ghosts of bread".....