That faded sign, you know the one I mean,
where the ocean lurches like a drunk--
we can't read it, but rest assured,
what it says is not encouraging:
neither only love is warmer
nor best place for the moon.
Right now a woman is tucking
into a wonderful salad
on the other side of the island--
it took the year for her to think
of it again. Dogs race around
peeing on one another with aplomb.
At night everyone is warned away;
they spend this time grasping
for other words for blue.
Here comes someone else we will
miss and miss again--
not that you're not staying here,
but the village is clever,
even at rest.