Posted by Gerald Bosacker on 3/21/2002, 11:01 am I watch skinny Pinfish skim My dock's stout cedar poles never shiver Inside, my lady and lover buzzes, That curt rebuff could explain why I might Link: WrymedWisdom
SITTING ON THE DOCK, my sandals
almost touch the empty crockery
of neatly stacked oyster shell,
betrayed by call of new moon.
the ripples, hemstitching to complete,
welcome mats where it's too cold to swim.
as I bend to soak-in my quaking reflection.
How sweet salt water lies and lies.
blind to my last publisher's rejection,
propitiously placed under the fly-swatter
decorating the sanitary white counter
where we shared cinnamon toast
and viewed yesterday's last rose.
venerate John Berryman's birth,
almost on the right day.
I do lean forward, posed to leap.
Such a waste in water three feet deep.
Gerald Bosacker 2001
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