Short Visit To Paradise: By Al Larus
You welcomed me with closed eyes
On the last evening of September.
When I lit a fire you got warm inside
rousing two flies,
now and then
hovering close to the flames
like sleepy old winos.
Undemanding and quiet
you made me settle down.
I fetched a log for the fireplace
and fell towards eternity
listening to the waves
interrupted by small sounds
from your drying wood.
No speedboats or cries from feeding gulls
in the morning.
No hamburgers and overprized pints.
on the tables by the marina.
Paradise returns with empty beaches.
as undisturbed cormorants turn to icons,
unfolding their black wings
on the rock
below the lighthouse.
Before I leave a promenade
along the narrow road.
A fisherman with lobster traps.
A yawning cat.