He arranges memory on the deck
mind-naming cloud shapes as they break apart,
one a suggestion of Toulouse-Lautrec
from bright games sharing knowledge of fine art.
In dusk’s fall he watches the light decrease,
no longer burnishing the sombre sea.
Holding hands, they had seen Cape Barren geese
arrowing to The Sisters Islands, v-
shaped in perfect symmetry, marine wind
not ruffling them, sleek over waves’ white-tops.
His return ferry looking becalmed limned
on slate sky, he wants time back, re-run, stops
reminiscing, rises to mix a drink,
recalls he quit, returns to sit and think.