Wednesday, March 4, 2015


Coconut Grove 
Is a very small cove 
separated from the sea 
by a shifting shoal 
we didn't realize that 
we had arrived 
at high tide, high tide 
barely made it out alive 

red over white 
fishermen working at night 
not even once 
did we see a light 
we didn't realize 
the forecast had been revised 
by moonless skies and
shifty wind that gusts and dies

on the sand our keel is heaving 
but tonight we've got to be leaving
travel through the day and into the evening 

Marathon how long we've been gone 
and still not yet set foot upon you 

your low lying shore opens welcomingly
to one who's spent the night at sea
Adrift in the shallows, a modest repose
adorn with coral, your bright colors show
ushered in through a bridge that is never closed.


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