weekend love

WEEKEND LOVE
We had a weekend of it,
walking, talking,
kicking the stone
around the beach.

Our jeans wet,
Knees grazed
large bare feet
tangled
With long hair and large breasts.
Later, miserably soaked,
gleeful like teenagers

A pause
An adjustment to the spectacles
A kiss that missed
Hmmm,
Let’s let this weekend
Wash through us

At the end of the pier,
We scrape our breath bags,
Howl out a tune
To a freighter
That honks back
Small boats,
canvasses pegged down,
shift themselves
according to the brooding clouds

Tugging at your windcheater,
I throw out a line
What do we want?
Companionship?
Attachment?
Wet windy weekend love?
But the wind jerks the words
From my mouth
and dumps them in the bay
At least we could say
the sea and rocks
were lusciously black and gray
that day




Malcolm Hill 2002