Stolen kiss at Fox River
A clammer of indignant seabirds at our arrival.
Tired and carping car-cramped humans.
The children run past us, past warning signs
right onto the storm-broken bridge.
Two hunched cormorants stand at a rock altar
like shabby elderly priests awaiting their congregation.
Wind-blown petrels make a precarious landing
for confession and benediction.
Sudden foam smash over rock an indulgent champagne .
As a wheeling gull plunges to snatch its flotsam prize,
so do you, old lover. You grasp my wrist to briefly live again
that giddying, flying optimism of love
from an earlier time before the rains.
Poems