it was always said that of all the people on the Island I loved life the best I who had the least but I had all I needed
WINTER SHADOW / Feb 11, 2011 small white stones fall rattling to the ground a shadow keeps pace beside me through the groaning night
come sit beneath my branches and read to me from dead poets for I am old all texture and symmetry a conspiracy of cocoons
I’ve known rivers swift currents set free escaping to the brine of the ocean and on to exotic places I’ll never be
Suppose you was 18 years old And never had a single thing In all your life to call yours alo… Except your body and your face? And suppose you went to work
the sum of the estate: pictures newspaper clippings poems the memories
grey rocks flowering in melting fu… first blooms of March after winter… a flock of ducks is muttering in t… the first light of day to brush th… shakes the branches they reply…
she watches him as if the fault were in her eyes poor shorn Sampson withered hands grip the canes that barely hold the frail reflect…
Time for a pit stop Half face in rear view mirror Road unwound behind
Empty moorings and Quiet lighthouse watch the bay Crawl back to the sea
the silence of colour palette of fall reflected on water white birch trees granite rocks
a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls
once the larvae have hatched how long can they survive without… each day I go forceps in hand to count the dead
I remember the summer of the polio scare we couldn’t go to the cove to swim that whole summer
odd to think of the world without… a frozen corpse in the revolving e… molten lava below cold stars above journeying through the long, wide… unknowing
