At Oaklawn
I left some pineapple for you
and a few of your favorite
comic strips at that place
where you most certainly
are not but where I last
saw you. I return there now
and then, like someone haunts
the pier after an ocean liner
departs in hopes the frame
might help the mind hold
that final image. But unlike
someone on a dock, I cannot
imagine meeting you again
in that place, for nothing remains
there but the broken vessel
you abandoned beyond
all uncertainty.
5 thoughts on "At Oaklawn"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Yes to this poem, especially empathize with “like someone haunts/the pier after an ocean liner/departs…”
Poem drawn from a lonliness deep down.
I love this. The beginning line is perfect.
Haunting and full of longing.
I love how the first line is all simple like that Williams poem about eating the plums and then the poem grows.