James Thomas Hazard
There’s a gawdy, painted buffalo-
You call them lufabos –
In the doorway of stores and in the square
Where students man a table
For the tourists still tipsy
From drinking the hour
It took to dock from Long Beach
“Say no to war…”
We are holding hands, as always,
Hoping for a glimpse of the sleek,
Half-hidden boats called subs
And ships, like whales waiting for their young,
Divers under the sharp, angular rock
Called Lover’s Cove
On a closed, rock slide road
But we walk where we will,
Oblivious to danger