The pier
spills
into the water’s
silver screen
like the white
yell
of lightning
or one of those
quick glances
of a girl
passing by
that linger
in the heart.
&
at the end
of the pier
I can hear
memories dancing
under
the surface
of the water’s
silver screen.
&
at the end
of the pier
my eyes
do cartwheels
on the surface
of the universe.
______________
Photo: Doreen Dee