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on star island

the rocks and shoalwater

where I split my chuck

tip to heel

foot half-hanging all week itching frayed canvas

shade crags and barnacle’d gulleys


(real! gulls! plump dovelike not salem harborsick frenchyfry types)

nipping down off young

a reading from James within a flight of treeswallow

nipping down o’er the well

for gnats, pondbugs

e’en the outreaches

cluckhen hutch and muskrat mound

the critter-tilled earth

junkheap waiting for workcrew barge haul

cesspool poopsmell

surfwatching ‘neath a cliff

as conservationist climbs down with bucket of anemone

strips barenaked,

dives into foam

and settles them them into place

climbing again to sunwarmed granite hilltop:

every crack and crevice

disgorging verdant stalks

and yellow petals

and throught the trees


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