Somewhere a sea breeze pulls at the shore
Like a child at her mother’s coat, too unsure
For words. She feels the sea in her eyes.
We see this in passing.
We all are here,
Tempted by things like shorelines finally quiet.
We reflect in our phrases a certain hollowness –
From a distance of years – ellipses of darkened rooms
With maroon-lit walls, a silent party
Seated at spread tables, hanging lights
Looking over shoulders.
We seek plural fields,
Stand at distances from one another, and imagine
Ourselves as clouds.
Andrew Brady is currently a senior at the University of New Hampshire in Durham, studying English. His work has recently appeared in the school’s literary magazine, Aegis, for which he has also worked as an editor.
