Summer-long the gulls' old umbra cry
unraveled ease,
but certain waves went by, then by
the sky shook out the days.

The seabirds' hunger rose in rings,
flung rock-clams to their shatterings,
raked gullets full, the bone-bills scraped.

High noon: oceans of time escaped.

*

All winter, we slept benched together:
breakers, sleepdrunk children in a car
not conscious where they go.

We kneaded bread, kept out the weather,
while cold suspicions huddled by the door
like mice in snow.

*

In spring, the leaving bloomed—
oak leaf unfurled, a foot, resplendent
vigorous, aching to shake loose
but still dependent.

One morning moongreen loaves
rose into bones that rose to lift
our skin like sleeves,
our long Together's revenant.

*