ALWAYS

Always on the same day,
by dawn's hour at 6 A.M.
the fishing boats on the Cape
go out on the sea
the south winds are cooling us
even when icicles fall
and sailors slip
over the piers on the docks
my eyes move leftward
sharing in reminiscences
of a lost tourist ship
in which all survived
because of the flashing mist
of the lighthouse
we are chilled at a distance
as we met the one poet
on board named John
who breathed in my words
once at the second parallel bars
pressing over the gymnasium
for John needed therapy
from unwanted pain
we held a fund raiser for him
in which he read his verse
about that fateful Fall day
when he reached out to us
in which none of his dreams
drowned on the beach
in the rain.