The Beauty of Rust
At the big water’s edge where tides set the clock, go scavenge, plan, dream. She brings gifts on the swing. On dynamic sands, a give and take of a seal’s vertebrae, a pelican’s battered wing, a weathered plank, faded letters—never ending stories. On gull-shat wharfs lobster pots stacked, ropes coiled, buoys lollipop-painted sit silently screaming of what was and will be. Rust on her hull, dive tanks molder, a monument to science or adventure or commerce still excites, a beautiful decay, hard crumbling edges born of sun and salt. Trash fish thrive on our rust. And in this old harbor ghosts wait steadfast for Neptune’s rapture, a limbo among decay and rebirth, content with the beauty of rust.
Mariner Scars
Among the crags, sun-cancered, time worn, rum-spotted skin, his scars dwell. A mako’s tooth here, a halibut gill plate there, scattered pin hole scars of a thousand 1/0 hooks. Ragged hash marks of filet knife boat stitches. That gaff dimple between finger bones, purple fading line cuts. And until he is ash or bone, the sea is always with him.
JD Clapp is a writer based in SoCal. His creative work has appeared in over 50 different literary journals and magazines including Cowboy Jamboree, The Dead Mule, trampset, and Revolution John. He is a two- time Pushcart Prize nominee (non-fiction) and a three-time Best of the Net nominee (fiction and poetry). He has two forthcoming story collections (2024/2025): Poachers and Pills (Cowboy Jamboree Press) and A Good Man Goes South (Anxiety Press). He can be reached at www.jdclappwrites.com X @jdclappwrites; Bluesky@jdclappwrites.bsky.social; IG @jdclapp
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