B.Z. Niditch- Three Poems

AT THE ESPLANADE

Dawn rises for exiles
under city lanterns
our bicycles rest
in Cambridge
as we head off
an infinity of cars
a half mile away
to the Esplanade
longing for the river Cam
linden or London plane
even greensward roads,
the wind carries us now
past whispers awake us
with puffin and plover
among fountain breaths.



MILLSTONE

Crushing to earn
their open field day keep
in the crimp backed mills
of Sheffield and York
tanned quarry guys
as plowman never waned
by milling of flour
to make paper from timber
with axes and picks
on now vacant barns
unable get up or away
from a medieval system,
we comb around dandelions
of once needed millstones
by once stone troughs
playing old folk songs
on my old dirt guitar
for miles,for miles.



BEYOND THIS TIME

You want to float near
Lulworth cove
under a sackful of sun
on this extended coast,
wishing to step on
sandy clay
speaking as a guardian,
"Step back from limestone
hold on near the rocks
and all wave action
reach over the waves,"
we stretch our arms
and imagine a rescue
from swimming lessons
at unrelieved silence
about a natural wonder
we August tourists head for
the seaward shoreline
tasting the sunlight
warming our chilled back
as you crouch
on a once fossilized shore
holding your hands high
toward the bluest sky.