I saw their faces as clearly as if… on their stones beneath their name… heard their voices in the trees whose roots go deep into their dus… and into the dust of this Island
a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls
Time for a pit stop Half face in rear view mirror Road unwound behind
Seagulls hovering Uneven hills encircle Tide pool reflection
All I wanted to do was ride my mo… And make out at Spooner’s Point. But when Mary Daley got pregnant Her father threatened me with the… So I married her and went to work
Empty moorings and Quiet lighthouse watch the bay Crawl back to the sea
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
Beneath that secretive smile A strong hot thrust From a sidewalk grate….
wind tangled trees coiling across a yellow moon spiraling leaves surf-curled dunes
Now that love has died Only silence remains between Two lonely people
white-rimmed waves crawl reluctantly shore ward moody city skyline rebuffs shafts of sunshine cloud confusion
Clouds on horizon Now and then a shorebird’s cry On buffeting wind
silent universe solitary traveller a perfect union
how pathetic to be born without wings such gifts should be for womankind, too
once the larvae have hatched how long can they survive without… each day I go forceps in hand to count the dead
