Lover's Key in Red Tide (poetry)
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Mon Sep 30 2019 at 16:27:53
The rising gulf is flooding the mouth
of the Caloosahatchee, rolling down
the coast from Lake Okeechobee
rust-colored and reeking of rotting fish
and seagrasses. We bank the boat
on a thinning beach in Estero Bay,
walk along the shore crowded with shells
and seaweed and dead mangrove stalks,
our eyes watering, throats dry
as a dead bird’s beak.
Even the algae can’t survive here
inside the bones of the Everglades.
We find a trailhead and follow it
toward Black Island, come upon a sign
that charts the animal species
known in the state park, but we see none
along the way: no egrets or anhinga
nosediving for sheepshead, no fox squirrels
munching on the masts of Bay Oak,
not even one zebra longwing lolling
along the deer ferns. Even the air plants
are twisting away from the trail,
as if tearing themselves from
their own roots.
I like it!
In their millions the frog songs seemed to have a beat and a cadence.
The strangeness of seeing another car on a late night back road
In the long purple evenings when rock n roll from WLAM blurred into night baseball from WCOU
Somebody has to live in the past. The future's too crowded already.
You and I have power supplies
How many melodies are there in the universe?
the last time I clobbered a human soul it was over a red-nosed girl and a schoolbook in County Derry
Love is like racing across the frozen tundra on a snowmobile which flips over, trapping you underneath. At night, the ice-weasels come.
What did you expect?
stars shine quietly
moths are all stars
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