Sport 13 Spring 1994
Summer is over because it is over.
Children gone. Clean-swept beach.
Why are gulls gathering along
the cold estuary at dusk?
They day is over because it is over.
The answer to many questions is hunger.
The beautiful shell is empty
while the ocean swells, is swelling, and falls.
The whole ocean, three islands, a coastline,
birds, a few humans, a dog…
beginning with the wrist at the heart
and returning with the wrist to the heart.
There she is making that gesture.
That graceful, slow, circular gesture.
Never again will I be ashamed
of gentleness. A gesture to everything.
Her hand sweeping like a tree-fern,
like a cello through the white room.
To those of the upright habit.
To those of the spreading habit.
To those of the slick and sordid habit.
To that fine bright line on the horizon.