We drove through bikinis, walked the paved strip
by the water as kids flirted and cursed. Clouds were low,
unmelting; dolphins moved through metallic
ocean. Sean found a piece of unopened candy on the road
and pocketed it. I wasn’t cold or sad or verbose; I was happy
he’d found something to eat later. I’m always thinking
of the delight eating provides me and how to dispense that.
At the party, Dean’s family was casual and kind, circles
of Ritz crackers beaming on trays. We saw the solar
eclipse, made watchable by the thick sea’s clouds. Night
light over sun. She was scooped, our bulb; we watched
her portioned. Whether you care about weather or not,
you could see it. And on cement, below, a group of us
talking, all seemingly young, hands at our sides, no
stones in our pockets to smooth down, to hold.