1.
Clouds cover the sky
offering a gray fluorescence.
Cormorants dive for fish
from the remnants
of an old wreck.
Rusted and unrecognizable
the mangled metal provides
the basis for a food chain
that ends with these black birds.
It is peculiar, I think,
that the wind blows
so cold from the sea
and all the Cape May diamonds
have been collected by tourists
leaving only broken shells
and the occasional cigarette butt.
2.
There is only one poem.
I have written it many times.
It’s the one where I discuss
the miracle of life,
marvel at precious human existence
then wonder why death
always gets the upper hand.
Love is the one steady light
in the darkness of the universe
breaking through all barriers
and adding eternal energy to our dust.
3.
The sun is now a hazy white disk
hovering around two o’clock
in the rainy sky. The row
of white Adirondack chairs
facing the ocean calls out for visitors
None come, save my wife and me.
We sit, watch the swells on the ocean,
white caps in the wind like
the calm we feel. On a pole
an American flag pops
and flaps in the breeze.
Ed Krizek is a former Swarthmorean correspondent, and a former Swarthmorean who now lives in Ambler. His forthcoming book of poetry is The Pure Land.