Beach huts, Berck, Pas de Calais, France: photo by Gzzz, 13 July 2012
All this summer fun. The big waves, and waiting (the moon is broken) for the moon to come out and revive the water. You look and you want to watch as men feel the beer breaking on their lips, and women seem like the sun on your little back. Where are you closer to everything? in the plants? on the photograph or the little heart that's not used to beating like the waves' foam? A wasp is looking for a hole in the screen. No. There's no man in the lighthouse. There's no woman there, but there is a light there; it's a bulb. And I think how complete you are in its light. Flash......... Flash..... ..............................
...... And I think of how our own room will smell; You lying on one bed and we in the other, facing the... flash..... .....................Flash
Plebejus pylaon nichollae copulating (female right, male left) on a leaf of Astragalus, Mount Hermon, Israel/Syria: photo by Gideon Pisanty, June 22, 2012
Salvia pratensis (Meadow Clary, Meadow Sage), flower, Karlsruhe, Germany: photo by H. Zell, 16 June 2012
Joseph Ceravolo (1934-1988): Lighthouse, from Spring in This World of Poor Mutts (1968)
"Published in 1968, Spring In This World of Poor Mutts contains the poems which remind me most of my father.
"His writings seem to reflect him being a man from 9-5, a fish on the weekend, and a summer lighthouse tourist in the warm sun.
"Perhaps these are simply the ways I remember him the most."
-- Jim Ceravolo