I was supposed to go back to the sea
but plague prevented me.
In a city by a river no ship could take me
and planes, well—
I stayed home for days with weekend drives
to see my love,
who didn’t live with me.
Night cranks up its float of stars. They inch
and tarry.
I was supposed to go back to the sea but nature
prevented me.
It said, “Sit right down and let me
clear the air—”
The sudden blue
of the natural sky after years
behind the smoke of money.
Mother Nature, who had had it
with us—
that was my theory.
So economical, how she laid us and all our wrecking
low.