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UPON LEAVING ATLANTIC CITY (December, 1961)

               —written during our honeymoon in “Romantic Atlantic City”



                                                    Jack Foley


                                The mother-sea exploded with a roar
                                before we put the lights out and it vanished.
                                Not even the ladies marching on the boardwalk
                                were storm enough to pull us down;

                                we rode out the daylight, dreaming
                                of drowsy islands where the water's calm.
                                Night was our harbor, when the midwife, love,
                                folded us in with its impossibilities,
                                fished out our pieces till the game made sense.
                                Sweetheart, forgive the liars and the fools
                                who shipped us to this place: they thought it best.
                                Sleep will bear you into gentler water
                                where painted characters of kings and castles
                                glitter like islands, and I will close your ears
                                to the disarranged palaver of pawns and
                                landlubbers.

































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