Driftwood Fires

The surge was forty feet today.
We saw a boat get wrecked—out by the rocks
half-lost in blowing rain and spray
she went down hard. All hands abandoned ship.
No rescue could be sent. We prayed.
We lit driftwood bonfires on the beach and sang.
One swimmer heard, or saw, and made
his way to shore. We trailed home at dark,
most of us—the new widows stayed
and stoked the fire, hopes burning on the beach.
Salt water came and washed the fire away.