Between August and surf season
is dead time in Rincón. Most shops shut down.
There’s a ban on catching grouper, crab, and conch.
The fishermen spend Sundays singing
karaoke salsa classics on the public beach,
their voices trained by salt and resignation.
The reef rests, regenerates. The seafloor is a neon feast.
Elkhorn corals celebrate, turtles come close to shore.
But the people suffer scarcity.
Luckily, the fruit trees flourish.
Locals trade bananas, breadfruit, green plantains.
This year the avocado harvest was abundant.
At any moment a hurricane might strike.