Catalina Seaplane Poem by Bernard Henrie

Catalina Seaplane



My mother was better looking than me,
hips efficient as a racing car.

Dalton China complexion, single strand
of pearls given by a deep sea diver;
Borsalino slouch hat for fun. her pleasure
in kissing games; an unfinished novel
she was writing.

I was her only daughter and to me
she was someone stepping off a Catalina
sea plane or about to board; ocean breeze,
perpetual hint of fruit and slender palms.

Twenty years ago, but i still see her flanks,
her sunburnt torso in a two-piece swim suit
poised at the edge of expanding nightfall.

The silver revolver on her nightstand.

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