Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.


How long must I sit in the sand,
Suspended on this chair of ribbon plaid?
As far as silence goes,
Sunlight etches each passing moment.
The seaweed at our feet is dark and light,
Old and new.
We used to look for China,
With fists full of sand.
I wait for your words to arrive.
And they are late.
The book in your lap
Carries such mystery.
When a seagull lands,
A prominent beak and chest,
A gray suit of lawyer feathers
Draw you from your shell.
I think he saw me first.
When kites land and Frisbees
Become water dishes for smiley lazy dogs,
We gather up your chairs.
Our heels sink behind our collective toes.
I feel the uneasy closeness under the midday sun.
We towel off sand in the parking lot,
Perhaps a deposit for only your return?
I mention that the brunch place in town could be nice.
But you say it’s back to your place
For a sandwich.
Susan Tally’s poetry has appeared at Birds Piled Loosely, Light Verse, and Clementine. She lives in New York City and she works with children.

Categories: Poetry

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