A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
Rachel Carson Wildlife Refuge
Wells, Maine 2016
The tidal marsh takes its own time and
space to mediate between land and water,
offers not boundaries but margins, pliant
and permeable. Where there is forest,
it embraces that as well, meanders gracefully
through and around.
Despite a bright September drought
these woods remain opulent in mid-afternoon,
pathways flat and smoothed by pilgrim feet
like mine, learning to twine through forest, look
down and beyond at tides and waving grasses,
holes dug into stream banks and tree roots by
whatever creatures sleep in them,
wait for us to leave.
Green light shines through pastel intimations
of fiery autumn, through boughs that
shouldn’t be drought-browned but are.
The tidal stream carrying not nearly enough
water back to ocean whispers, shh … shh …
the sea and I are still here.
Copyright 2017 Patricia Youngblood