Tuesday, April 04, 2006

bahia resort haiku

in a pool scrubbed blue
children lean over hot rails
a seal swims upside down

Monday, April 03, 2006

What I want to remember about K

This is how it ended: Let's keep in touch.

Before that, I sat next to her. I watched her brown bangs, the light freckles, and the red raw cuticles of her nervous fingers. She never turned toward me, and I knew.

Before that, she came into the large meeting room and sat down next to me. She asked a question before I asked a question. I don't remember the sound of her voice.

Before that, I was prone on the marina, poking at the moon jelly while she crouched next to me. I nudged her leg, and felt the firmness of her skin.

Before that, on a coincidental walk together to a meeting, I told her I wished I'd made a big jump, a clean break, a fresh start. She laughed.

The first time was this: walking by a door, I saw her, she saw me, and I began to remember her.