Tuesday

Offshore

Factory work lights dim
Fog and smoke and something
Along the lines of memory
Circling, warping, rapt.
A wave of train
Steel surf and coal
New Orleans off to sea
Dire nothing and me
Lost in silver mirrored sky
Abstract and concrete
Contradiction is impossible.

Or,
Say we lived through the storms,
And I watch you playing with my son
Now almost nine, splashing in the surf,
Sand in his blond hair- your blond hair;
Laughing at me lost
In my ocean of memory.

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