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
Alight.