Two Poems

An Afternoon at Cave Point Park

Michigan’s waves boom

like the kettle drum in a symphonic prelude.

Breakers rush through clefts in rocks

hissing and misting the ledge above the foam.

I feel the spray on my face.

My jacket is damp from water

throwing itself into the sun.

A gull has flown into a small cave

and returns with a fish

caught in the turmoil of the swells.

Cumulus clouds become old men

lying on their backs smoking pipes.

I lie down next to a clump of beach grass

and think of you.

The Ferry to Washington Island – 1985

Just about asleep, you wore your Greek seaman’s cap,

sun beating down on you making you squint

at the camera.The water sparkled

like someone had tossed diamonds across the Bay.

We were happy then before everything began to go bad.

The maple trees were on fire, and I remember apples –

the crisp smell and taste, bushels of them lined up in stores

that recommended cherry everything.

This was before my cancer and your heart attack.

We were still invulnerable, filled with plans, babies,

Eric’s first driver’s license. The years ahead

bunched in a neat little package.

Who knew the future? That we would separate,

Jason would die. Our hearts are broken; both of us ill.

We meet occasionally on weekends to remember the past

and shyly disregard the rest.