We sink
quietly into each
other's company, watch
the sunset pour into the sea
a pink the sky cannot contain,
the artist cannot paint. Instead,
she paints the boats, kissing her
baby profusely between strokes.
Gulls squat on the stone bench
where we sip coffee, In the
salt marsh, a light blinks,
summoning infinite
summer bugs.
We ride home in silence, sweating, past all the swans.
quietly into each
other's company, watch
the sunset pour into the sea
a pink the sky cannot contain,
the artist cannot paint. Instead,
she paints the boats, kissing her
baby profusely between strokes.
Gulls squat on the stone bench
where we sip coffee, In the
salt marsh, a light blinks,
summoning infinite
summer bugs.
We ride home in silence, sweating, past all the swans.
Reprinted with author's permission.
 |
| Cover drawing by Jack Butler Courtesy of Patricia Butler |
Patricia grew up on Long Island, lived and traveled in many varied geographic and cultural areas; she is currently residing in Georgia.
The quintessential summer poem we have picked for this week was first published in Patricia's 2011 collection "Poems from the Boatyard" which we carry at he store. A drawing by her late uncle, Jack Butler of Oyster Bay Cove / Sea Cliff / Syosset, graces the cover.
