Unknown Knowing: Daily Poem No. 2
A poetry series by Katie M. McGrath
TARA LOST SUMMER
(Died 20 years of age, suicide)
I haven’t written of that sea dog
barking into the squeezebox, sleepless night,
the clanging, glaring relentless day.
Nor written of the “I love you best,”
the sought-after “I am in love with you.”
In a tinny, twang of a laugh-less,
desirable, droning hypnotic voice
singing sentimental, “I love you best.”
In the old missing days of summer,
we lost Tara past the tar pylon wharf
meandering in swollen waters
of a rowboat cleft wake carried on
Monterey kelp canopy, defeated,
aching to hear sweet “I love you best.”
Eating an igloo cool, soft cheese sandwich.
Bait hook the size of my pink fingernail
bobbing impotently beneath us
entertaining Spanish mackerel: License
to bathe in beautiful bodies stretched out
across the platonic wooden bed,
conquering youth, potency, constantly.
Blinding, brilliant confetti cavorting
sunlight on the familiar Pacific.
Silky peeking, eyes big as dinner plates.
No end to this perpetual us-dream,
of this happiness so elusive,
yet caught in this weathered rocking dinghy.
Incessantly the sea dog barks speaking,
hollow, round, heartfelt “I love you best.”
Forever she stands casting off the pier
looking out at the small craft full of hope.
Happy now in this simple sandwich,
effortless sisterhood-found adventure.