This is one of my most favorite poems in the world. My friend, Barbara, wrote it, and she is graciously allowing me to publish it here.
Gulf
This map of the Keys,
with their left-handed sweep
to Key West
reminds me of the small
of your back
arched in summer
spanning yellow days,
highway fever receding -
My fingers search the seven-mile bridge
and secret shoals,
feel your traces
in the hollows.
Then you reach into my maelstrom,
haul me out
with your Texas keel,
your Atlantic sail.