Monday, September 28, 2015

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

Sunday, September 20, 2015

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