Key West, 1977

Key West, 1977

The longest overseas highway
Paralleling the Florida East Coast railroad tracks
Water every shade of blue and green
Every length and width of boat, ship, dinghy
With sails, without sails
With motors, without motors
With cabins, without cabins
Named and unnamed
Manned and unmanned.

The house, rented for two weeks
The bedrooms, two with AC, one without
The couples, two pregnant, one not
The marriages, still intact
But none to last, but who could know?

The limes, the limes, Key limes
In tonic, in pie, in iced tea, in limeade
Tart and clean and fresh and delicious
So many limes, so little time.

The guys took the sailboat out for the day
And had a big adventure, at least they said
The tide was faster than the motor and so
They were swept backwards under the bridge
Right after they sailed under it
And so had to lower the mast twice.

Off Christmas Island they saw nude women
Swimming and sunning and cavorting on the beach
They had a blast catching fish and getting royally sunburned.

The pregnant ones, feeling it but not showing it
Drank no alcohol, no coffee, sat in the shade
Got sick after dinner, floated in the pool.
One had a boy, one a girl. Was it all those limes?

Each Friday changing rooms so everyone
Got air conditioning at least part of the time.
Bodies passing in the hallway,
Laden with towels and purses and swimsuits and sandals
Sheets and suitcases and straw hats and sneakers
All that effort for fairness.

Three weeks is a long time for three couples
Two of them pregnant, to live together.
Sharing meals and outings and loafing and sailing and bicycling
And exploring Key West.
At least what you could do with two pregnant women in tow.

When we got home, it was a long time
Before we called each other.