By Ellen Martin Story
Woodland deep oak and northern pines,
their gentle swirls of needles and leaves
whisper to suffering fools of late summer
pummeled and shivering from battered sea —
Come hither for peace in this autumnal grove,
feel a firm crunch beneath your feet.
Then, after fall mist twists to winter’s frosted
whirl, trudging into anxious rains of March,
trust once again you’ll taste the drip
of a honeyed sap come spring’s rising arc.
Ellen Martin Story is a retired human resources administrator and a member of the Cleaveland House Poets. She lives in Oak Bluffs.
Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems to Laura Roosevelt at email@example.com.