Nag’s Head

Decades of silence glitter in the silicon distances
Between constellations

Of starfish littering the beach
My father and I are learning

To navigate. Yesterday, between us,
A blinding wind of sand and

Sea foam. Today, slender plumes of plunging gulls,
Squadrons of pelicans

Skimming pipes of curling waves, dolphins
Turning like propellers just past the breakers,

The smashed armor of horseshoe crabs.

He describes waking from a midday nap

Against a log after setting up camp

To buzzards circling, his father’s gangrene
After a botched intestinal surgery,

The chemo pills he’s taking to fight
The leukemia pillaging his body—

As busy little harmless birds
Scurry in and out of the surf.

There are so many gaps we rush to fill,
So much time to make up for,

And so little chance of actually telling each other
Everything

Though it feels good to try

As we walk this beach named for horses
Pirates hung ship lanterns from

Dark and lonely nights

To lure sailors into these shoals
Looking for safety

In the company of another ship.

Martin Arnold