for Crystal Fraser

swept up like skirts,
out of a sort of sleep,

alive in ways I had not been
since mystery severed ties
I had with pelicans, years ago

love disaster, that disaster,
she was born ten years after

able somehow to stir me so,
head to toe

long long spoons, in lemonade, in ice tea

we’re having lunch this afternoon
umbrella above our heads
tourists about us, scantily clad,
imagining they’re in paradise

we know we are


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
9:40 p.m. 27/08/07