Saturday, September 19, 2015

Back to the Island


Felt a need to get away, he took me
across the river to the island, I
trekked across the bridge.


At the wooden table, a piece of tooth
broke off, surprise.  The wind whooshed past
so strong it took my pencil.  About eight people braved
the breeze and currant in an end-of-season swim. Why
did I bring my umbrella and not my
bathing suit!!

I breathed in sand, and wind, and sky, in
company of the gulls perched there expectant,
like sentinels on the shore.  I love this place, the
trees, the many paths, the Quiet.
You can scatter my ashes here
when my time times, I'll tell him.
I'll show you the exact spot.

The bridge

The Island
The Boardwalk.  It takes 30 minutes from
start to finish. Bikes not allowed.

Rest Stop in the Woods
 I follow the gulls

to the Beach

 The River

     In the park I saw:
          A series of gates to nowhere
             A homeless man who asked "Quelle heure est-il?" 
               A chatty octogenarian on her bike
                 A wooden stick that spoke to me.  I took it home.
                   A sand fort licked by the waves
                       Two little siblings giggling feetfirst into a puddle
                            Eleven baby pine trees in pots in the grass.
                              A red leaf so red I heard its shout through the silence.
                                  A found photograph of a fox that I wish I had met.

Free parking

In the park,
a gate to nowhere

Dead Tree Carcass

For the weary walker

It blew past, then turned inside out.  Rain tonight.
 Under a tree, little swing for two

On the way back

Where are the fish

The Salamander House

Nobody home

Salut, toi, salamandre
Wait here for A.