Winter Shoreline in Miami
for Jon
By Anthony Botti
I do not remember what I was like before you.
Early mornings, you swim in the sharp, nurturing surf.
Our thirty-year relationship is like this white stone
I carry on the shore this fresh morning—a source of grounding
I turn in my hand, a small mystery. And solid enough to hold
the hand-picked days of memory I stow in my mind’s back
pantry. This is the contour of intimacy—discretion in my palm.
Our pug, Puck–loyal and near–digs a hollow in the wet
sand close to shore, never taking his eyes off you.
He lives for your return to shore. A wave breaks, rushes toward
me and covers my feet, then recedes to the ocean.
Later, on the soft sand, a yearning silence settles over
us as we rest together on a yellow Turkish towel.
I lean forward onto my elbows, the salty sea air coiling
around my face, remembering.
Anthony Botti is the author of the poetry collection Where It Will. His poetry has appeared in The Comstock Review, The MacGuffin, Cider Press Review, Blueline, Flint Hills Review, and Mudfish. He holds a Master of Divinity (M.Div.) from Harvard Divinity School. His work has been nominated for both a Pushcart Prize and the Thom Gunn Award for gay poetry. He divides his time between Boston and the Berkshires with his partner and their pug, Puck.
