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
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 Boardwalk. It takes 30 minutes from
start to finish. Bikes not allowed.
Rest Stop in the Woods
I follow the gulls
to the Beach
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.
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
Salut, toi, salamandre
Wait here for A.