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Paradise Island


by Bill Yarrow


A man comes out of the waves gasp­ing
panting stumbles falls blind with happiness
the shal­low water does what it can to kill him

He's shiv­er­ing so I place
over him my ter­rycloth robe
a first anniversary gift from you

A crowd has gath­ered and drags him from the dying
waves toward the awful solace of the sand where he lies
hav­ing outswum his drown­ing hav­ing fallen out of the sea

You look down on this man on the ground
he is moan­ing thank you into the earth
you did the right thing you say

I did the right thing yes but the robe
the new robe your gift is ruined
I ruined it these thoughts swim in my head

Fif­teen years later not a week goes by
that I do not think about the fate of the pale-blue robe
you gave me to wear on our anniversary vaca­tion by the green waves

Fif­teen years later not a week goes by
that I do not remem­ber the tex­ture smell and com­plex­ion
of the water out of which you and I watched a drown­ing man emerge

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