Long Beach Island

sun-brown men

jest from baking rooftops,

women with salt-touched caves

wander the sweaty streets

houses larger than dreams

reach soft powder beaches

and ocean, infinite ocean

—in a straight line,

you’ll reach Portugal

tanned sentries

guard the sands,

eye dolphins in the distance

from the crossed hustle

to the mocking ghost town

after season

the waves roar

their clarion call

to giant dreams

and stars make new friends

with a knowing wink

Rockport at Night

another youth climbs the tree

this one a barefoot girl

—the cop chased away a boy

as a teenage girl

sings, sings at piano

for a small crowd

people take it upon themselves

to light the paper lanterns

that glow our way through the breezy night

the dark beckons everyone

to the beaches

lawn chairs jockey for space

to spy the fireworks

Lobster Fest has wound down,

dusk shrouds the folded tables and chairs

as visitors mingle and float away

praying they come back