Cashew Nuts and Peridot Water

Escapade At The Rocks

A sad-eyed lady intends to explain
a vision:
the afternoon at the lighthouse.
She has been down there
staring up at the beacon's light
feeling the thick of the water
past the dangerous rocks,
dreaming of being on a beauty of a horse,
reading into a lonely rendezvous
(something mysterious).
How long can she admire the ocean,
taking walks to calm her Cherokee spirit?
She is talking through
pragmatic bliss about somewhere
rarely spoken of,
a particularly rare space of one--
no man's island.
She dangles her feet, brazen and
funny, as I see her far away
at the Pier.
I dream that she
has been abandoned only for the moment,
calling out to the
German Theatre clowns that
she has made a day of it.