So this second poem is--
it actually came out of an assignment I gave a class.
I read them.
Among others, Tony Hoagland's poem, "Cry Me a River."
And I sent them out to write a poem out of a conversation.
And I ended up doing the exercise myself.
So this was my effort.
"On Bumps River."
This is in Cape Cod.
"We have come with kayaks to the water,
powder blue and marine blue framed by dune, barrier
island, the steely clouds.
One of us says, I'm afraid.
The second, take risks, face fears.
The third, holding his child, place feet near center
to stay balanced, upright.
I go in circles, circles, circles, the first says,
though I wish to cut the water like wings slice air.
Wind rises, and the child is cold.
I'm cold, he says.
I'm cold.
An osprey hovers, dives, touches the water and rises, flapping,
lifting, the fish in his talons, weighting him.
The third says, the laws of the Aerodynamics
are illustrated by the osprey, which
flying as he descends, plucks the fish
and turns it with his talons to face the direction in which he
flies.
We all look up again at the osprey flying low
over the dune, still visible.
The second says, poor fish.
The third, the osprey nests near others because it hunts alone.
The wind's rising.
The child's cold.
The first says, we will go back.
The second, we will go on a while.
The fish is sailing out of sight and does not think or move
and will not close its eyes."