Half Moon Bay
They argued. They sulked. She walked out
on him in the morning and walked back
in the afternoon. After an early evening nap,
they tried to make nothing of it. He set up
the outdoor table, she cut up potatoes and turnips
for stew. If only for the sake of conversation,
they decided after dinner to talk about
the past. “Time and time again…” she said,
as if quoting a line from a poem. Silence:
then the wind turned one last reminiscing page
and blew the votive candles out. Stars came after.
And darkness cheeped like a tiny bird.
Sherod Santos is the author of six books of poetry, most recently The Intricated Soul: New and Selected Poems. He is the recipient of the Theodore Roethke Memorial Prize and an Award in Literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters.