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He sported a trim brown torso—

the first to catch my eye—

as his cheeky scarlet Speedo

went water-skiing by.


What swimmer wore such racy briefs

in Nineteen Sixty Three

unless to signal secret griefs

the wearer shared with me?


I sketched his figure patiently

on sheets of creamy bond,

fixing his form in memory—

and the memory is fond.


I see him skim the glinting cove,

leaping a speedboat's wake

when life seemed one long wait for love,

hope an unspoken ache.


Alan Sullivan



From Man Overboard, © 2000.

Reprinted by permission of the author.

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Countryside Heaven

Table background by
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