yes, “I’m out here,”
but, I wanted to paint the sea--
the hurricane surf,
I wanted to make a painting
wedding Benton and Pollock
like the beach rose for Becky
a kind of intimacy,
Jackson, made a beach rose
painting, for a girl named Becky
it stuck in my mind with
the same touch of affection
and foreignness
the hurricanes roared through
they were fun, and the drama
they brought--we surfed
as much as we could,
sitting at the overlook, reading the paper
watching the swell, waiting
the waves would get too big
then weather turning round
there would be a moment,
PERFECT! rolling, curling tubes of--
and the wind-- flattens it all out
Wow! those waves were great,
you know that feeling?
a few beach roses left,
mostly the red orange hips
the orange day lilies are gone and
the trumpet vine to seed
out back the candle is
bleached, white
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