Poetry

Surprised 
by the anonymity
of a veteran hunger
digging for clams
trembling by
the frozen shore
in the shameful
staring eyes
of distracted tourists
eager for a ride 
on duck boats
who toss 
pocket money
and jelly beans
for good luck
in the ocean
watching for Leda
the last swan
who must have known
my visits 
and not kept away
since we are
childhood friends
dripping with pre-war
memory's exposure
now wrapped 
up in a jacket
with pocket poems
of my last collection
in an actor's words
on breathless wind 
swept air
I'm always
carrying notes,
new and sundry
on my sleeve.