I Want (Again) Poem by James Browning Kepple

To own an old lighthouse restaurant
on the coast,
wait for the slow season and
sit inside against the pelted window pane,
the hurl of the storm gives time for the dance in mind,
Push stick upon stick into the hungry hearth
and hold up with a window seat to the lashing
of the tempest ocean below.

I want
to serve up the best of food in the good times,
watch as summer romance blossoms
amongst the youthful staff and pet my tail wagging dog
that yes even for this lonely old codger
insists someone is out there for me.
I unload the new delivery of fish and goods,
restock the larder. For me? He yelps,
I say yes well, why don’t you go find one for me.
These failed mechanics of our relationship
always lose meaning in speech,

so I give a bit of budge with boot
throw a piece of fish down the boardwalk.
The dog doesn’t seem to want or need much,
Happy to have his food thrown to the sea.