trying to make
myself understood —
the sun in a spoon

a length of rope
knotted with seaweed —
pull of the tide

moonlight swim —
I sink in my shadow
and come up in his

a small cave
only children’s footprints
on the sandy floor

wakened by rain
the scent
of bruised mint

Ulysses butterfly —
the satisfaction
of knowing its name

amusement park
odors melding
with the sea

vacation whodunit . . .
     the perforated shadow
          of my straw hat

wave after wave
no one I knew
as a child remains

still
no answer . . .
the stars