Anticipating Montauk

the quiet sand dogs lie

muffled

beneath the porch

so still

no one, not one, not even

i

notice them

there.

all year we saved,

snuggle bunnies that we are,

for this sand and that sea

for strawberries and vodka

and seven sexual fantasies 

all tangled-up in salty sheets.

all night the surf 

all night and all day and

all days

even when we are far away

even when otherwise concerned

the surf

and the surfer bird perched on the roof.