A Poem by Christopher Kondrich: ‘For Now’

The place we’re standing between inexperienced flagsis a stretch of seaside with conditionssafe for swimming. Past them, in each instructions,situations change, possibly rocks or too sturdy an undertowbelow the floor. Are you positive it’s secure, she asks.It’s, a minimum of for now, I reply. Now—with its crests and froth and saltrushing towards us—covers our ft, our ankles,we aren’t too far out but. You’re nonetheless younger enoughto carry over because it comes. Once more, you exclaim. Once more, now comesfrom forward of us, one other waveright behind this one, an onslaughtthat shivers you with panic and glee. I look left,then proper, think about the flags framing not a stretch of beachbut of time, demarcating the place the pastbecomes now and leaves for at least2º of warming. The flag to my proper is about 50 yards away,we transfer towards it, in dashesI pencil on the wall above your head, my handtouching your hair, which tastes of saltwhen I kiss it, when my lips change into suffused with the identical nowI look again on as if it have been one other life.This poem is from Christopher Kondrich’s forthcoming e-book, Tread Upon.