Figurehead Off the Prow

She could return to the man
who dances with praying
mantises. Or, to the water—colder

on the second day. Or,
another man

she hasn’t spoken to
in over 20 years. She sees him—does he
see her? She imagines

how she might reinvent
his gaze. How he would look

underwater when the ocean
has calmed. Or, what he’d do
if a fox started following him.

Now she doesn’t even know
which man she means.

It’s all a wild ride
that begins in a dinghy
her uncle named after her.

Weathered and Racked

Behind a picture frame, buried
in the sand beneath
handmade cedar shingle

swings, above
the dunes, floating on

the surface of a disturbingly calm
bay, I might discover
my new obsession.