LOVERS IN WINTER

by Steven Klepetar

 

 

You can tell
they are saying
goodbye
that distance has

already swallowed
them up, by the way
they linger on this
cold beach, bare feet

stung by the rag end
of waves.  She is
weeping and he would
if he could.  The wind

must sound lonely
to them and the hungry
gulls a provocation

about flesh and its
never-ending need
for salt and air and
those leaping, silver fish

exploding back into the sea.

 

        

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