Thanks for a Great Season, See You in the Spring

Bumper to bumper stars honk from their darkened
display cooler, that off-shore sky advertising

the dairy & frozen shore where I've moved
recently, despite swearing off moving again

my apartment among the boarded-up motor hotels
sitting beside the potluck sea noisily calling

anything corn-colored & vitamin-like
into it—the sun, the suet fed, two fishing boats

go missing, the Tast-ee Freeze is for rent,
the wind drunk-dials absurdly, a kerfluffle

of cats & one folk singer rhyme by the True Value.
Everywhere, an inward propagation, the sea is

a white forest of lungs, the dunes grope obsessively
& recapture themselves. I am touched deeply

by The Real Feel. I hold hands with a stranger
through a wind advisory.

Copyright © 2007 Nancy K. Pearson All rights reserved
from Black Warrior Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission