At the Water’s Edge
By Eloise Jones
You stand by the water’s edge
Close enough to feel the slap of salty water against your knees
Smell the brine in the air
Hear the steady tempo of the waves
And you start to feel a sense of calm
Until a wave knocks you off your feet
The sting of the water blinds your eyes
The frothy blue of the ocean slips over your head
And you are trapped
At the mercy of the water’s rhythmic ebb and flow
Eloise Jones spends summers on Martha’s Vineyard. She will graduate from the Nightingale-Bamford School in New York City in 2025.
Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems to community@mvtimes.com.
