I didn’t see any eagles or herons at the beach, but I did collect some words on my voice recorder. And already, as I listen, I edit out the false starts and try to capture the phrasing of my recorded voice by line. Later, perhaps, I will work some of the words into other poetry or prose. A few of these segments already feel like poetry to me. Think of all the words I would have lost today!
Segment 1:
It’s an ankle-deep day.
If I were wearing shorts, I’d be up to my knees.
The water lapping into shore
The sound of children
The slimy seaweed I must dodge
Beautiful, beautiful day
Segment 2:
Pockets of cool
And warm waves
Slimy seaweed
The brush of green
Segment 3:
A bed of dead Dungennes crabs:
Hollowed out shells
Of their former selves.
Segment 4:
I used to collect Petoskey stones and [tiny] fossils along Lake Michigan shores.
Now I collect words along the Sound.
Segment 5:
I had forgotten hot.
Segment 6:Rock polisher:
Give the dull green
A fresh, wet sheen.
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