September 12, 2009

Everything Else

Chilly morning here,
by the docks, Rory's
breakfast shack, listening
to the fishermen

reminisce on catches past,
the weights
and measures of great luck,
seagulls croaking

affirmation overhead,
winging on to find
luck of their own.

Well, I've lost,
but the waves are coming in silver,
the sky lavenders at the edges,
and the coffee is strong.

I've lost
what I wanted most in the world
but everything else is
a hell of a consolation prize.



Hull, MA. 8.21.09

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