Tracey Erin Finnerty 
I want to be the fish that stares up at the white
feet of Billy Collins walking across the Atlantic.
Where is he going with his stuffed attache case and
Holden Caulfield hat heavy with mist?
The lighthouse beam swings around again for a glimpse.
Ho! Our hero, like a good poem, has
traveled a great distance to find you.
Will you invite him in even though he is soaked, sure to
leave a foggy halo on your dining room chair?
Are you willing to stay up until the coffee burns, until
the story of the dog you lost becomes clear?
Probably not. You are young, know little of love and
less of death. What can I do but teach you to pass the
English Regents the first time around?
Years from now, the night your mother dies, you will
find the complimentary pen the barefoot stranger left
and love yourself for the first time.


Poetrybay seeks fine poetry, reviews, commentary and essays without restriction in form or content, and reserves first electronic copyright to all work published. All rights to published work revert to the author following publication. All Email submissions should be in body of email text.

To submit poems write to:

PO Box 114 
Northport NY 11768
or email us at

send comments to

first electronic copyright 2004 poetrybay. 
all rights revert to authors

website comments to