In The Offing: Tarpon Springs, Florida, July 1996 Poem by Dennis Ryan

July 1996

It's what I remember happening immediately afterwards—
the wind blowing a gale through the palm trees,
the waves violently slapping the slate-grey sea.
We had gathered together, and it didn't feel right.
It didn't feel right; I didn't know anyone except you—
your mother so happy she cried on my shoulder,
a stranger's shoulder. We humans make the best
of things.Later, the sea laughed as we hugged, said
our goodbye, and James said, "You're almost family."
Almost.Always almost, I thought, looking to the offing,
when we drove offthe beach that night, headlights flashing
under the stars, moving through corridors of light;
finally splitting off, I reiterated my final words to him:
"Stay warm, brother. We won't see each other again."