it's fun to write a poem at the beach

There was a wedding on the beach
as I was walking to the point. I saw the bride
approach the aisle, step toward the sea.

When she walked, the hem of her dress smoothed
the sand & the ocean roared at her progress while
everyone sat in their white chairs & watched.

I found myself in an audience
uninvited, like the three men with rounded
bellies & fishing poles cast shallowly

out into the water. Twangy voices
spewed from the radio at their feet, sour
like the beer they sipped as they watched her & elbowed

each other & thought of looking at their wives
for the first time & again & again with familiar
smiles, a sort of happy remembering. At the same time

several children were building kingdoms by the shoreline,
their skin coated from the work while they watched
truisms emerge from their make-believe,

the white of her dress exploding in their dreams
against the falling sunlight when she reached
him & saw hands clasp & the waves applaud.

-

What I love about here is how love can only
be thought of like persistence –
how the water marries the earth again &

again & again & how it says
“I want you” & you can’t hear anything else,
you can’t even pretend it is whispering.

What I love is when you walk & suddenly
the waves splash up against you, or how
that small bird I passed on my way

was startled to see me coming, & he
flew away & was consumed by some thought of
where he needed to be. & I love when my skin

is tight as salt dries into it & nothing near
is silent - love like a surprise, like being
beckoned into some sort of roaring kingdom, suddenly.