GLASSES

You lenses, that take in all the blossom
Of the day, bringing home
Your own reflection, your lissom,
Brown and waving Kodachrome,

Your glassy mirrored view
Of a self too fragile to be fun -
A face too faded to be the you
That sprawled beneath the agile sun,

That flourished here before the chain link
Framed the bay, before the net
Went up against the ink
Of time and spray, against the threat

Of light, the blink of birds,
Of children on the dated shore -
You lenses, shimmer in the shaded words,
Always in the words, that dance, and break,
    and soar.