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On Noga Beach

by Kristina Baer

On Noga Beach
sleepless at dawn,
they watch the sky brighten
above the lighthouse beyond the harbor.
She holds his hand,
fingertips cool as rain,
as the sand warms in the morning light.
Barefoot at the water’s edge,
he turns to face the sun.
Alone, standing watch on the beach,
she conjures the future,
her heart, his.

Posted in Poetry

3 Responses to “On Noga Beach”

  1. Neal Whitman says:

    Kristina’s poem is a reminder that a poem is not just a translation of prose into another language such as French or Latin, but is saying something that can be said only as a poem.

    Amicus poeticae,

    Neal

  2. Kristina Baer says:

    Noga Beach, in Cannes, is just down the Croisette from the Palais des festivals, where the film festival takes place. In the high season, the beach is a place to see and be seen–especially if you’re a film star.

    Out for a walk one early October morning, I saw a small barefoot boy in a red parka standing at the edge of Cannes harbor. I took his photo and later wrote “On Noga Beach.” On its own, the photo shows what I saw. Read separately, the poem is a love poem. Viewed/read together, photo and poem give more information about what I saw and thought about that morning, thanks to the context and clue provided by the photo.

    “On Noga Beach” as a love poem implies a love couple, a man and a woman on the beach. Read with the photo, the poem identifies the woman as the little boy’s mother. I like it both ways.

    Child on Noga Beach

  3. Kay says:

    Kristina’s poem leaves me feeling at peace. Be it Noga Beach, or a beach anywhere in the world, this poem draws parallels between the universal love between people and the peace we find at the water’s edge.

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