On Saint Martin/ poem by Mary Beth Hines

We took the monsoon
as invitation to spoon 
at the bar behind glass
on the beach, Bloody Marys 
and gold in the spools
of your eyes when we stood
and swayed to the sounds 
of guitar and the wind 
splintering, the torrent, 
a clap, clap, clatter on tarp, 
all but drowned out the French 
singer’s gauzy ballad 
and the ice popping 
in our weeping,
abandoned glasses.


Read Mary Beth Hines’s review of Tom Daley’s poetry, Far Cry, in this issue #11 of LIghtwood.

Mary Beth Hines is an award-winning poet who also writes short fiction and non-fiction from her home in Massachusetts. Her debut poetry collection, Winter at a Summer House, was published by Kelsay Books in November 2021. Her recent work appears in The Inflectionist Review, The MacGuffin, SWWIM, Tar River Poetry, Valparaiso and elsewhere. Her short fiction was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Connect with her at www.marybethhines.com

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