Self Poems

Completed in 1977


Where are those bodies
Oiled and sandy grit
That browned on this beach
Like a barbeque pit?
And those boys that threw frisbees
The girls that blew kisses
And all the dogs that ran
The men that swam?
Now strange huddled forms
Move up the beach
Booted feet sounding hard
On frozen sand, frozen seaweed
As the water ebbs,
Sheets of ice carpet a moonlit
That dazzles the eyes
Through misting breath
In the air of summer's death.


Goldthwait Beach was quiet tonight
As the tide came in
Far enough to only touch.
But not embrace, the little rocks
That sing in storms
And dance
On each other
Rolling down and pushed up
Over and over along the beach.
Some nights the noise
Is amazing and the air
Is filled with seawater
Thrust high.

Tonight it was so quiet
I couldn't hear my troubled thoughts.



She's a wonder
That little dog.
The way she loves me:
Like a fire loves a log.

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