June 29 1997 Fire Island Journal

June 29 1997 Fire Island

The waves from Africa 
Break on the Pines beach
The sea froth surging up the sand
With a lisping hiss
The final reach of the Atlantic
Swirling around my ankles
To retreat from
'Neath my feet___
Three seconds later
Another wave ripples around my feet
My soles sinking into the sand deep
My balance threatened 
By the tug
Of the sea___
Overhead a Westbound 747
Crew of nineteen
300 plus passengers
From Europe on the approach 
To JFK
I am invisible ___
This autumn I will be westbound 
Aboard a jetliner to Heathrow 
To Paris
To the South of France
And then Ireland
But I am here now
Fire Island
Haunted by the ghosts
Of boys of summer
Their names
Countless as the sand disappearing 
'Neath my toes___
I close my eyes
I see them all
The boys of the Sexual Revolution
Soldiers
I open my eyes
I see none__
I fight to remember 
All
The boys of summer
On this beach
Within reach
1978
Before
Before 
Before__
I see us all with my eyes open
Naked 
Young
Tanned
Laughing 
Naked
Alive___
Not  
Old Polaroids  Not in my hand
Of my mind
Oh the nakedness
Now
Today
I strip naked
No longer young
Alive
Naked___
Dive into the cold sea
This moment 
Like all those gone
And those to come
All of us
Together 
Never to flee
Our nakedness then
Or my nakedness now__
The smell of poppers in the air
Ah, the Pines__