Tries to escape through summer’s haze,
but only recalls the room some years ago:
students speaking of Antigone and he
finally uttering a thought, but his thought
Is thought superfluous. A silence entering
Bennett. Bennett becoming that silence.
Heads bob over waves, another couple
passes. Bennett on his bath towel,
burying his fingers in the sand,
legs pointing toward the sea.
But now he is there, watching
the muttering old man
with his metal detector.
The old man stops, his ugly
voice hushes, and bends
down to meet the Earth.
He wonders what is there.
The folks at Poetry Circle really helped me out with this one.