An anthropology of space? A Cape May
Scenario: porches, hammocks, flags; lawns
Without stone ornaments, small windows
That are bow-shaped for the sea wind,
Mail boxes with salt-air-withered signs,
The pavements narrow enough for a child
To feel grownup for a moment while his parents
Tip-toe around a large toy and then carry him
To the beach. The street dirt is sand.
Off in China the Olympics are starting
Without a sound as the authorities number
The torches and athletes. Space is more real
Here. A bird I’ve never seen before flies
Over the beach with a cry I’ve never heard.
The ocean slams into the shore, rocks breaking
The sand every few hundred …