Unexpected Shoals

Old loves fall like raindrops
into my dreams lately.
My first husband....
You.

I still won't call you by name.
To do so is to remember
when you still loved me.

I dreamed I found our old sailboat
destroyed on  the shoreline.
Despite birds scavenging and old men 
leaning hard over metal detectors,
I discovered a winch, a bracelet you bought
for my birthday, our flag and a framed photo 
of us mugging for an unseen photographer.
You kissed me after, hands already lifting
the edge of my tee, eager to go below.

I gathered my findings, carried them upshore
and buried them.

I didn't bury the flag.
I left that as a warning for new lovers,
to take good care in their own odysseys,
a reminder not to wear blinders
against shoals that still lurk
in the brightest of nights.

Pris Campbell
©2006 (revised 2011)

Art: The Boat or Angel With Corona by Redon

 

Published in The Dead Mule 2012


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