Mutability
Mixed amongst the
earth’s age sand
Along a Northern beach
Are fragments of another
time
Once Possessors of
this land
Whose blue tinged
Canton ware?
Given in love?
Possessed in pride?
Now lies along the lonely
strand?
Perhaps they sleep
In the churchyard
Beyond the beach
A Whipple, a Haskel, a
Poole, or a Tarr?
They keep their
silence also
Their secrets of their
shattered life's vessels
As the shattered
pottery
Scattered by the
immutable sea.
BORN OF A SENSE
OF PLACE
A New England coast
is;
Salt and granite
Sometimes soft but
never constant
A New England heart
is;
born like others.
But conditioned by a
sebnse of place.
A New England sea is;
Always grasping, life
and land.
Seldom giving, always
asking.
A New England love is;
Closely held, too much
moisture mixed with coldness.
Consuming passion to
feed its’ need.
A New England life is;
seeking sea room.
Racing for its’ gray
slate end.
