AUGUST AT CAPE ANN

We stare at a back page
in a used bookstore window
Everything moves me
even shadows of songbirds
over the streetlights
by unwritten stones
near the Good Harbor
every drink is a savor
by Gloucester's rocks
and tall greensward dunes
even by late thunder squalls
you long for the sea
finding a tortoise shell
white upon coral
all seems infinite
in my snorkeling
and immortal to reach out
on the white sands beach.