Member Poem

July the fourth came steaming into port, the lilacs and cotton flags bloomed (not to mention the sun was pounding the earth like a perpetual jackhammer) … I sat under a copper beech and reveled in the white wind, reading Neruda and touching the light-covered stars with my mind, immediately sensing a fleetingness to the salt moments that rubbed my cheeks red and put my heart straight… all this time spent wondering if you ever thought about me in the blaze of passing instants, and I wished you could hold me till I was blue—the hair on my neck right on end… I’d tell the harbor bell to stop ringing, and let the ocean moan its tireless symphony, I'd storm your dreams like a drunken Viking, and help shoulder the home I saw once when I gleaned the mirror in your eye—I'd never let that heavenly organ ever fall… till I knew it was real…