Long due honeymoon, we walk black sand beach,
stand at the crisp ledge of a waterfall
and watch greedy-fingered gravity reach 
up and grab the current, like taffy pulled

over and down, ride the native ponies 
with their tousled eighties rock band hairdos.
We three. My past heartache accompanies
whale watching, hiking, in the bedroom, too.

Bathed in the spray from a blowhole geyser
I opt for the now and strip myself bare,
stow the past inside my soul’s deep freezer,
vow a present life, just we two, aware.

Oh, I’ve kept an old slicker for rough days,
when your weather towards me is cold and gray.