In August I dream of the sea

In August I dream of the sea.

I dream of Cape Cod

Where water like silk

Meets a Hopper shore.

I dream of Los Angeles

Where the cold and wild Pacific

Meets a manicured coast

And the highway bends toward Malibu.

I dream of Istanbul

Where ferries ply the Bosphorus

Where Europe meets Asia;

Where protest meets pepper spray,

Old men and their ways

Meet unvanquished youth.

I dream of Cape Town

Where a billowing cloth

Tumbles off Table Mountain,

And rolls toward the harbor,

Where boats carry the faithful

To rocky Robben Island

And Mandela’s tiny green cell.

I dream of the ocean in August

The sweet salt water of hope.