Frank Fagan

Rookie (b. l938 / Troy, NY)

Riverside - Poem by Frank Fagan

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,
yellow trees, a bright red tug, the sooty
sky, talk of an impending breach.
(And I should mention our delight
in eddies of reflective speech.)

Another kind of tug, on memory’s sleeve,
marks each timely rupture of the scene -
birds, boats, waves, and wakes - a place
for two, a passing view, within our grasp,
beyond our reach.

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Comments about Riverside by Frank Fagan

  • (4/14/2005 6:48:00 AM)

    'Another kind of tug, on memory’s sleeve' good line. First verse, sublime. (Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: autumn, memory, silver, sometimes, water, red, sky, tree

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 13, 2005

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