my mother's letters

You wrote:
Oh, it has all crumbled into the ocean
but I will buy coral necklaces and wear them
with nothing else.
You wrote:
That job went kaput, perhaps my parents told you.
A friend sold surfboards and gum in China,
asked if you would meet on a street in Providence.
Another went to the club but saw no familiar faces.
Boys told you Martha’s Vineyard never looked so glorious.
No news here, you wrote,
crossing out 'some bliss' in another-colored pen.
You brought a friend to Zurich because Paris was too cliché.
Having put down the sand, fruit drinks, and lobsters,
you wrote: still searching.
I wish I could have seen you, talking on docks with those men,
and the reckless tanning, with beads and nothing else.
On cold days in not-Paris, I bet you wore that black sweater
that I put on sometimes here in the future.

CDL