I Am Writing You Tonight

The fishing boat is coming home after traveling the wide ocean
It glides through the shallow channel beneath a silver slice of
                        summer moon
The light is on the wheelhouse and a friendly radio reports
that princely codfish have been seen sleeping in the inlet
                        beyond the midnight shoals
And where am I? Watching from a bench outside a famous
                        restaurant that sprawls across the pier
Inside, film stars and cineastes are dining by windy candlelight
They pay with raw diamonds and are served with raw gold
                         while the codfish dream of all of us
their dreams are rumored to be luminous, like stars
                          beneath the sea

and F., F., I am writing you tonight to say that I have no one
                           to eat with, no one to sleep with
I hope you have found a safe harbor. I am still here,
                            waiting for what comes next


--Eleanor Lerman