Frank Fagan

Rookie (b. l938 / Troy, NY)

Riverside

I got your message from I know not where
but there was trouble on my phone. I heard
just this: breakfast…tugboat…lemon…click,
followed by a static hiss. (I, too, am, at my best,
succinct, but sometimes pith can camouflage
an anxiously loquacious bliss.)

I guess you spoke of yesterday, late
autumn’s near-last gasp: silver water,

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