The question of what to wear
is always there. Evening
begins like every other day.
A savage ache for leisure.
Let’s offend the usual thing.
A car down wooded lane,
mansions of green and white.
The sun sings in waves.
Oysters on silver trays
iced buckets of Champagne.
Tradition is alive. A few
died or committed suicide.
The season brings new faces.
High on a patio, lips curl
for the first of many
pictures of summer people.
From “Hamptons,” Lucas Hunt’s new poetry collection, published by Thane & Prose. Mr. Hunt, formerly of Springs, will read from it at the Amagansett Library on Sunday at 2 p.m.