Bay Poem

Each carving thread of sunset strand

Burnishes to mind

The lowly things inside the sand

Which have lately come alive.

How wondrous is our oval place,

The bay yawns open wide.

Its teeth the little houses face

In company confide


All ages here within one time

All years and journeys met


Without the worry of when or then

Now Moswetuset


Gulls strung up from tip to tip

Strings in bellow curl

Glassy toes of pebbles whet

The clarity of home.


Oh Quincy Bay, and wild marsh

Your Spirit is alive.


And ever play around my neck

Sunset sad and sunny fleck

Deep hearted tree

Deep heart in me