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Graham Nunn, AU

Tonight on the Bay

Tonight on the bay, the full moon stares at me like a miner's lamp. My tired eyes cannot hold its faultless gaze. I look away to the softer starlight & down to the chaos of the deck, where our bait thaws into the newspaper, and my father is curled up and snoring against the life jackets. Eight bream, motionless in a slurry of salty water, bob up and down with the gentle rocking of the boat. Each year there seems to be less. Each year my father sleeps for longer and each year morning seems further away.

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