Walk the shore in this gleam
with me, waked by the young
March wind tantalizing
on our necks, the estuary’s
revealed grasses green and vernal,
sun slanting in the west,
warming our backs, pushing
off winter and the weight of years.
We call each other to this light—
faith glowing, water trembling
a golden edge, anticipating its run
over dappled flats before the dark surge—
as we called each other when we
were young and playful as ducks.
This is what I want before looking
back to sum our journey:
to hold the turning tide with you
until we cannot last,
until the flood washes over us
and we are submerged again, earth
and sky separated, the west
wind moaning over our surrender.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 25, Issue 6.
A native of Buffalo, New York and a graduate of Kenyon College, Jonathan Cohen lives in Norwalk, Connecticut. Several of his poems have appeared or are scheduled to in the journals Stone Poetry Quarterly, I-70 Review, Great Lakes Review, and Amethyst Review. He studies with Jon Davis.See all items about Jonathan Cohen