Waterfront

“Fairhope Pier” by Molly Phalan

It was a blue you won’t believe, a telling
I can’t get right. I wanted to step into it.
It held me. And it would
hold me, if I stepped out. Beyond,
I knew, was what I can’t reach.
When I say there was no line,
not even the hint
of one separating lake
surface from what’s above,
I realize you imagine
a line, maybe faint.
Maybe it had something to do with twilight.
I wanted to believe
the line, too, but I couldn’t find it.
An aura of what, beneath
my knowing I knew,
feeling morning
without breeze.
Feeling the hint of something
with no line, truly.
I wanted to get it right.

Leanne Hoppe holds an MFA in poetry from Boston University and works as a teacher, editor, and translator in Cleveland, Ohio. Most recently, her work has appeared in Palooka, Bayou Magazine, Gravel, and Asymptote.