Key West

I Where devils soar, Anhingas spread their wings, Willets will themselves to sleep And reddish egrets Dance dervish circles Across drowned flats Toward chosen minnows. II The moon has arrived too soon. Frigate-birds zero in on nothing. The sun’s image reflects back on itself Despite the movements Of fractal cirrus Across its sabered face. III Nothing to regret. Nothing to anticipate. Held in a netherworld, After coming but before going, We watch for a sunset We expect, from a bench We believe in, on a pier That might not be here If, and when, We come back again.