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Sample poems from:

Small Towns Along the Coast

A poetic story by Jeanie Tomasko from Dancing Girl Press. 

 

Epilogue

it was early November
and three small girls walked along
the receding tide
reciting
she sells seashells by the seashore
reciting as if
it was a brand new sentence
as if the spinning world
and its waves
going out and out and in
were something that began
just then
and the sky spun yellow
brilliant and mango peach
and then blue
and bluer and
then that last darkest
blue before night
down beach
the downbeach people
were reinventing flight:
sending paper lanterns off to sea
tiny hot air balloons
fueled by fire and match lit wishes
Let’s you and me reinvent a seashell shop, she said
Sure, I said
the wheel, the waves, the way it turns

 

Point of View

Foggy out there, she (second person, in line) said.
Yes it is. (third person, in line) (unknown)
What’ll it be this morning? (first person, at counter) (I) (said)
The Usual. (the first person in line, a regular who orders The Usual, said.)
$3.95
One-o-five, your change.
Tip Jar.
Cream’s over there.
I’ll have the usual too, she (second person) said.
You’re not usual though. It’s only your second day here, I said
(meaning: 2. I get off at 2)
Coffee and scone, she said (meaning: large mug for over there, same kind of scone as yesterday)
I think I’m going to be usual, she said (nodding to yesterday’s window-side)

 
 
 

Lighthouse Knot

Tell me a fairy tale, enchanter
Have I told you the one with the lighthouse in it?
They all have a lighthouse.
No, listen. The first time they met they had a map in their hands
and didn’t know it.
If it were up to me, one of them said, life would be wallpapered with maps.
Later, they got in a car and drove to a field marked with coordinates.
Who were they?
Just listen. After dark they completely stumbled on a distant planet.
When no one was looking they gave each other the innermost ring.
They made up names for the seven moons and said if it were up to me
I’d give you half of the fifth moon.
Legend and all that.
And if it were up to me, I’d scrawl a map to my heart and give you
the rights.
The lighthouse, it’s abandoned (might, we?)
I wonder who lived here a hundred years ago
A lighthouse keeper: maybe, and/or/but is there a way to keep light?
No, it’s made of waves and waves are not dependable.
Are there waves at the bottom of the sea?
Only shadows
lighthouse knot: for securing the
lighthouse: to the shore
let: me show you