murder for lobster

The red paint on the skiff has been rubbed by weather, by water and by men
sitting and standing, boarding and disembarking. Places where the paint is absent define remaining shapes, a Rorschach of stretches and splatters.
A stubborn spray that a cold sea might cast.The motor is gone. There are no oars and the hull is empty, dry. A walnut shell halved and cleaned out.
Where once it was afloat, the water level has yellowed the sides and underneath are dry scribbles of seaweed. Now aground, it is again stabilized by ropes as the jury studies the bullet holes.