By Dan Steele
there were things we did
in the days of the comet
we ran under the storm of rocks
in wet grass
and slid onto benches, and sitting upon it
with long hair of younger days
there are things we’ll do, I promise
on beaches nowhere near here
and songs that we’ll hear, dance, sway
as palmettos grow sweet fruit
and we linger at their bottoms
at the end of the day walk to the
beach at the end of our street
i’ll follow you, venus, adonis
with tan skin and coming winter
we’ll live forever
under the blue light of the comet
January 5th, 2008
To Tracy on her birthday
