1
When I drive to the beach
marshy salt water
wrinkles up my city nose.
Dunes, just out of reach.
2
I pull up to Belleayre
hoping to grab first tracks.
Whirring snow guns fan,
override all conversations.
On a gleaming slope,
a lone skier looks to catch air.
I want to be him.
3
Oregano, onions,
melted mozzarella, yeasty crust
make my mouth water
before Joe at Broadway Pizza
serves me in a room as hot as his oven.
What’s your secret sauce, Boss?
4
I duck dive a five-foot wave.
As I rise, another smacks me
down, down, down.
My face grinds into the sand.
I gasp. Salt water gags me.
In search of the perfect…
Another smacks me down,
laughs at me.
This is not funny,
not what I crave.
5
Hot sidewalks
cool church
glare
darkness
my eyes adjust
I follow the odor of sanctity
burning candles
flickering in their little cups.
A coin clinks in the iron slot
With a bell
Mass has begun
greetings in Latin
altar servers respond
worshipers pray privately
by their favorite shrines
a little Virgin
dressed up in a gold-threaded dress
susurrations
Polish, Italian, Spanish
three shakes of loud hand-held bells
announce the supreme moment
We hear the priest address the wafer
more bells
he addresses the cup of wine
more bells
I kneel by the altar rail
taste the tasteless wafer
sip the stale, red wine
say my prayer and rise
leave the congregation
blink in the blinding light
hear parishioners lightly chatting
linger for their communion
I fumble for my keys
