A KIND OF BEAUTY

For Matthew, on his 50th birthday.

Grey buoys bob upon the shimmering bay,
Springing dark and weighty on waves that play
With light as distant cranes fold over nests
And, close to shore, two rising silhouettes
Of freedom flutter loose and lively ’cross
The view between trunks; now the fairy floss
Roars out as a bird pitches parallel:
A clapper that peals on an ancient bell;
It echoes ’round this haven by your home …
We ate dolmades, rode across the dome
Of Captain Cook, envisioned many things –
Bright futures. Lives. And now the season brings
Me back to breathe the brine and taste the waves –
Adrift on a sea that hidden depth saves.

– Rita Glennon