On top of the dune,
Balancing between before and after,
Preparing to leave,
Already missing this place,
Then falling back into rhythm
With the lapping of tide and time.
Gentle flashing from the tower on the hill,
Soft lights from salt-stained windows
Silhouettes stand looking out towards the midnight,
First Night,
Headlights in the distance,
Fireworks shot into the sky
Sparkle and cast low to mirror
The arc of the heavens
Curve visible tonight,
This blue bubble we are in,
Celestial lid I can reach into
And extend blown by the wind once more,
Wait for it to come,
A falling star just there,
And then one by one
Each light goes out,
String of holiday bulbs at last extinguished,
Only the bright beacon stands high
Leading through the night
And back into day again.
Rachel Baird spends her winters walking Dogfish Bar for poetic inspiration.
