Across the Bay
Gibson Holub
The lighthouse winks at me now and
again, like a lover across the bay.
I'm behind the thick glass of
a coffee house reading the name of it
backwards from inside.
It intrigues me — the name of the
cafe backwards.
I think that maybe it should be
changed to something more simple,
more grand.
Now I'm told to leave for
they are closing.
I tell them that I was just
leaving. I tell them that I must
meet a lover across the bay.
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