For Later

 

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.