Summer

the sea in the wind
salt, sand, and tropical sun
tangled in her hair
–
amid the waves-
she watches ships
ply her waters

you think things are bad
why not try rolling your eyes
at me one more time
–
crows take flight-
under the elm
a shallow grave

clumps of garden weeds-
the summer sun warms my back
and eases my mind
–
a golden breeze-
the wind caught
in her hair

a bite in the air-
nighthawks begin flying south
along the shoreline
–
orange moon-
the year’s work
ready for harvest

highway sedation-
numbed by the interplay of
streetlights and shadows
–
evening star-
a crow perched
atop a streetlight

the party over-
blackened wicks smolder in the
citronella pots
–
constellations-
old friends and
old stories

down by the river
releasing slights collected
after all these years
–
on my back-
the weight of countless
grains of sand

her face to the sky
sundress plastered to her skin
at one with the rain
–
sandals in hand-
bare feet in
the wet grass

still she counts the ships-
her thick wool sweater stained red
with the setting sun
–
date night-
she sits at a table
set for one

an empty rowboat
tied down to a weathered dock
rocking in the swells
–
salt spray-
the old pier’s
bleached bones