Issue 116, Fall 1990
The beach is a balance oscillating
in the sunlight, it is a see-saw
our town gleams on.
From our island, we watch its tin roofs
disappear among the layers of clouds . . .
The beach is a telescope
we lay on its side, it is a column
blocking our path.
Its Corinthian capital swells out at us—
a lizard’s throat
marbled in a circle of acanthus.