Remembering Club Mak In Greengages Poem by Edwin Hopper

I remembered wind and wild white horses,
when I heard Mike read his poem on waves.
Ski boats, bikinis, tropical forces.
But water, can be still as the grave.

Bored in the airless hotel bar,
my hepatitis, meant I couldn't drink.
I could cool off in a fast, open car,
or, go down to the water, and think.

Couples, sweating in the windless night.
Mosquitoes, moths. Dance, and rumba guitars.
Treading insects, killed by hotel lights.
Alone, on the beach, the mirror of stars.

Crickets and fireflies. Till the moon rising.
And dark became silver and bright.
Beams drove stars from the far horizon,
and flooded the deep with light.

Then, as if the universe planned.
One ripple, powered by moonlight,
plopped, at my feet on the sand,
and tide wind, brushed me with delight.

Shelley said, moonbeams kissed the sea.
But that night, I think, the Moon kissed me.