Monday, March 28, 2016


She walked as if walking were an affront.
Daddy, the naval officer,
had disposed in her puppy's ways.
She threw them when out dancing,
but just enough so she'd shiver and strain
than let out a good shake.

Only in her head ever would she argue with Daddy.
For a pretty-faced boy she'd argue,
and kiss his good mouth,
caress the nice figure,
catch the dreams in his dreamy eyes.

But Daddy disapproved.
The boy wouldn't calculate,
was contrary, confused:
a sharp tongue, a limp hand displayed—
damned if he'd do aboard ship!

So she dropped the one, picked up with another,
the most popular boy in school,
who graduated a solid .300 hitter.

Soon after they were married,
they came on a trailer abandoned in some woods
near their favorite beach in Maine.
With the inspiration of a head full of sun
it was she who cried,
“Wouldn't it be wonderful to live here?
We ought to, I think we ought to, shouldn't we?”

Then he, a born leader,
led her where he could not lead her from.
He has become known as a carpenter in the village.
Daddy cannot doubt
the sea beyond the beach in their back yard.
Spring mornings, children not far behind,
she goes fishing.
On clean legs in the surf
she casts her powerful bait against the sea.

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