North Shore Reverie
I picture Walt and Neil,
The wizened long-bearded poet
under the wide-brimmed hat,
the astronomer adorned
in a vest of suns and stars,
walking the shore at dusk,
relishing the percussion of
shards and pebbles underfoot,
consonants of the sea’s unfolding song
embedded between ribbons
Of seaweed snapping on the surf’s tongue.
Glaciers, says the astronomer, his voice
a reverent music summoning cliffs
frothed from ice, climbing
and receding in the briny air.
His old companion whispers Algonquins,
sinking footprints in the glittering sand,
their tents and fires shimmering on the landscape.
“The atoms in your body
are traceable to the stars”
says the astronomer.
“For every atom belonging to me
as good belongs to you.”
says the poet.
With the swell and sway of
the Sound against the tusks
of cliffs, our Island reaches
its long grasp through the
Mindy Kronenberg is an award-winning writer whose poetry, essays, and reviews have appeared in hundreds of publications in print and online in the United States and abroad. She teaches writing, literature, and arts courses at SUNY Empire State College, publishes Book/Mark Quarterly Review, reviews books for Mom Egg, and serves on the board for Inspiration Plus, an arts initiative celebrating creativity through art and science. Since 2016 she has served as Editor for Oberon poetry magazine.
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