Conversation by the Sea

An old man sporting a black
beret and leather jacket was
sitting on a bench flouting
the brink of the fresh new sea
in Berkley. I sat next to him
tired and waiting for the next
train to gallantly glide over
the vast waters.

"Amazing," he started. "Isn't it?"

The sky was cast with a light
grey that spanned from east
to west.

"Sure is," I agreed. "Quite amazing."

The reflection of my cigarette
smoke slid alongside quiet ripples.

I asked: "Do you come here often?"

He told me he had waited
a very long time for his train.

Then I saw the Chicago-bound
train and lept up.

The train approached cooly
and sent swelling waves toward
us and finally stopped.

I boarded and looked back
at him with confusion.

He switched the way his legs
were crossed and winked.
2 Responses to “Conversation by the Sea”
  1. I really love this. The feeling, scene, atmosphere, mystery. I thought at first the “fresh new sea” in Berkley, implied incoming students, and the university. Next, I loved the speaker’s conversation with the old man, so real and simple, we do talk about these things with strangers. Then, the younger speaker leaps up, as the younger often do, but the old man stays, and the speaker only describes his change of position and wink, and leaves it to the reader to think about what it means. It is beautiful. I’ve read and liked many of your poems, this one strikes a chord of mystery. The speaker tells us just enough, and no more, a hard place to land, but you did it perfectly! Really great work, and once again proves that implication is much more powerful and haunting then overt declaration and summation of a scene, or event.

    • Ziggy Mang says:

      Exactly. It is a piece about purgatory, and is consider this a draft in order to add more clues and detract certain descriptions. Inspired by hills like white elephants. I want this one ambiguous and interpretive. Thanks for considering so much into my work. It means a lot.

What do you think? Criticisms and praise welcome.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


    • 5,619 peeks
  • Months through the ANTHOLOGY

%d bloggers like this: