As inaccessible now as Atlantis
before it sank in the Sound. My lost
car keys are there somewhere, but
don’t know how to help me get in.
Even the rotting deck chairs,
faded umbrellas —
groan on the deck,
heck, I know you are waiting for me
impatient, stressed out,
jiggly, once
kings and queens, now on your
last legs. I can almost hear
monster seas that are opening the Point
Now, as I write from a big city office — 
overhead, snow clouds, no
place to watch birds,
quiet finally leaving the woods,
ready at last for spring and
singing that always
takes me by surprise
under the covers,
very slow to face the city light —
wary of what I’ll see, trying to read
X-rays of my day, I know
you’ll be there with me soon, in the garden,
zealous and ready for fresh flowers again.