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Personal Note:

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Poem

The Viewing

She wore it that weekend
After he bought it at the drugstore
with eight dollars
they didn’t have.
Rent money.
Food.
It was a man’s Timex
and she wore it
in the motel.
She wore it in the waves
at the beach in Coronado.
The hands froze
and sand collected.
She wore it to the wedding.
She wore it on their honeymoon.
A night on Catalina.
Eleven-thirty eight.
She said that was when they 
fell in love.
She wore it to the hospital
until the doctor talked about
stillborn and heart beats.
Then it was gone.
And she.

Now, forty-five years later
he waited until everybody
walked past her.
Nobody knew
husband number one 
from long ago.
A grandchild smiled at him.
Some lawyer had found him.
Finally he got up.
He couldn’t  look at her face
but saw her wrist
with the Timex watch.
The wrist underneath
that he used to kiss
leading to other things
and a baby
with no breath, blue.
He saw the hour’s hand
floating on the sand 
on the dial.
Minutes still thirty-eight.
He saw her hair floating
In the wind
And the sea rushing to engulf her
And take her
For the moment.
And reappear
like now
laughing,
love really not lost
at all.

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