An Apology

It's funny how anger
often dissolves into hurt
and then guilt
and then remorse.
Like an alka-seltzer
wreaking havoc
in the glass
before it settles
and mends.

Marina

I drove down to the river tonight
in my dad's black pick-up.
The trees were half frozen twigs
slightly waving as if
encouraging me to go and see
those sad, tall boats
packed in shrink wrap-
attempting to wear their names
in spite of the season.

The Sacred

by Stephen Dunn

After the teacher asked if anyone had
a sacred place
and the students fidgeted and shrank

in their chairs, the most serious of them all
said it was his car,
being in it alone, his tape deck playing

things he'd chosen, and others knew the truth
had been spoken
and began speaking about their rooms,

their hiding places, but the car kept coming up,
the car in motion,
music filling it, and sometimes one other person

who understood the bright altar of the dashboard
and how far away
a car could take him from the need

to speak, or to answer, the key
in having a key
and putting it in, and going.