SHARK REEF

“Well,” she said, “what’s it mean?”
I thought I’d try to save her. “That guy, Pablo. He really liked lemons.”
“That’s all?” The marker hovered over the whiteboard.
I thought of that bird on television, cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.

You were just a young girl when you saw
that couple on Turtle Beach find that living
creature in a shell. The man said, Let’s go back
to the car and get the cigarette lighter.
You asked me to explain what that meant.

Father comes then goes in the morning
Looking into the bathroom mirror,
Mother, too, when I take the pills
And wait for the blood pressure reading.
Where do they go the rest of the time

In the wind that ruffles through the trees
I can find thoughts of you whispering to me
Memories like a great novel, love songs and themes
The morning sun works its way through the leaves

It was ridiculous to write about sunsets
until I noticed the girl on the Chicago El,
the one with fingerless gloves
and five rings on her face, start snapping
photos with her cell phone.