The Boatman's Wife



I will come back

which ever way the sea may want

to tell you I love you...

                                 From an old sea ballad.

Perched angular on her garden wall

she waits,  watching the tide. The sun is hot

but keeps her bones havened  in light. So dazzling

its flame gave her  the fervor to pot

(in terracotta ) soil and bulb. All those red

geraniums along the fence

now bright enough to fetch  --

                                 a sailor's eye from the sea.

 

Last month, her husband left

with compass, lamp, and linen sac

to store his soiled clothes . But most essential

 the  bronze bell he declared

was the color of her  hair.

when loose and lit by the falling sun. Something he would ring

when he returned..  And The flowers

she had placed with careful hands --like flags

 held high in bloom

                          or sagging low.