Around her waist, Lucy
loves her loves, wears
her belt of love, pulls it
close across her hips
every empty night.
Last night, Lucy walked
out Rockaway pier, where
the old man casts
his illegal net.
She followed the wood
til her toes hugged
the plank's edge
and studied the moon
sunk mid-deep in the bay
and wondered if
the belt would
float or sink.
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A place for writers to find refuge when doubt and rejection have trapped them in the underworld. Writing and works in progress by Mary, as well as some photos of travels.
star gazing
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About Me
- Just Mary
- Empty nest; what is next? Over 20 years as a creative writing instructor; over 40 years as a writer. On my desk right now, an unopened bag of coffee beans, a music cd, a plethora of pens, two newspaper scraps, photos of my son and daughter, two half-full bottles of water and a half empty coffee mug and a notice from Julie about a poetry reading Friday night.
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