Alone, adrift, run hard aground in May
Amidst friends’ beachfront wedding leisure,
Hammer-blows of fetch-fueled waves, salt spray
Stung unhealed wounds of unfathomed measure.
Midday, a second shadow joined me there
To cheer my futile clash against the sea.
Well-made from warmth and kindness, Southern fare,
The earth’s good salt, he taught astronomy.
As one star-set sparked millions more to light,
The ocean sighed, and I agreed, beguiled.
And turning toward him since that radiant night
His kisses blazed a trail from cheek to smile.
Of all gifts borne by ocean tides to buoy,
The best was brought to me as Alan’s joy.
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