At Sunset

•

We look out
at the sailboats
rolling on the waves,

“I don’t know why
the ocean is so healing,
but it is”

it is at this point
that a beggar child approaches
and asks if we want to buy some beads,
for which we say no,

we already gave to the man
with the broken arm,
and the woman who was homeless,
but thanks anyway

it is at this point
you tell me the story of when you went to Hawaii
and slept on the beach
until you were busted by the police

that I have heard you tell
so many times over the years
each time the same and yet different
it amazes me

like the words in a marriage ceremony
the second time around
pronounced now
with a different emphasis

we drink pina coladas
to love, life
your recovery from chemotherapy,
at the same time wondering
whether you will be here next year

there are some things
we talk about,

others we don’t talk about

as good as our life is
in New York
we vow to retire here,
learn Spanish,

“ You would be a good person
to retire with,”
she says on the beach,

I will always be
grateful,
seven years
we have lived together

we hold each other’s hand,
half joking, half serious,
unlike that first date,
awkward,

devoid of context,
that Nation personals ad,
but if we hadn’t done that
we never would have met

the surf rushes
up to the shore

there are some things we
talk about,
others we don’t talk about

tears come to my eyes,
though I don’t know why,
since the last CAT scan
came back negative

we decide to walk to the pier,
see what is going on there,
the tears you pretend not
to notice.

“You would be a good person
to retire with, too”,
I tell her

“I would work on my poetry,
you could do your jewelry,
every day we could walk
to the pier”

she smiles,
as if this really could possibly happen

on the way to the pier
we encounter our friend again,
now beseeching
another couple

as we walk on we listen
to the crash of the waves,
the squeals of the children,
the calls of the vendedores

like music
in an ampitheater

a cruise ship glides by
in the glimmering distance

along the shore
children build sandcastles
in the sand, young
and at the same time ancient

the tide rolls in,
the sun goes down

darkness finally approaches,
and with it,
a wonderful sort of
stillness.

Swimmers fold their blankets
and turn towards home.
The seagulls wheel
and cry.

Especially beautiful are
the older couples
walking the beach
arm in arm,

at sunset.