By Don McLagan
The crash and suck of waves,
the sweep of dunes are elsewhere.
Here is the quiet library of the shore.
A spindle-legged egret stares
as with spectacles through the surface
of a salt pool. From its balcony,
an osprey lifts, floats above the tufts,
scans for a ripple. Amongst the cordgrass,
hermit crabs scuttle for morsels,
like graduate students in the stacks.
The platform built for viewing
invites us. Something important
is here. But like dyslexic children
in the foyer of a great athenaeum,
we are stopped at the threshold
and can only gaze in wonder.
Don McLagan is an entrepreneur and poet who lives and writes on Chappaquiddick and in Sarasota, Fla.
Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems to Poet’s Corner curator Laura Roosevelt at email@example.com.